


give your heart (a break)

by drunkonwriting



Category: Glee
Genre: Kurtbastian Bigbang, M/M, bigbang, h/c, not entirely Blaine friendly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-13
Updated: 2013-02-13
Packaged: 2017-11-29 03:24:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 46,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/682171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drunkonwriting/pseuds/drunkonwriting
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-TBU AU. Life moves on after heartbreak: Kurt knows that more than most. As he tries to put his life back together after Blaine, he finds an unexpected ally in his new coworker and Isabelle's nephew: Sebastian Smythe. As Kurt goes through his new life as a single man, he finds an unexpected depth to Sebastian and realizes that losing the first love of his life doesn't mean he'll never love again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Kurtbastian Bigbang. Thank you to the lovely keesecake for the amazing fanart! This behemoth was originally going to be 20k of Sebastian and Kurt being cute in New York - obviously this shows that I can't write short fiction worth shit. All musical numbers can be found **[here](http://8tracks.com/fandomiscoming/give-your-heart-a-break)**. The title is taken from "Give Your Heart a Break."

Kurt counts the small dots on his ceiling: one, two, three, four . . .

"Kurt?" Rachel calls from outside his door. She’s worried, but Kurt can't bring himself to care. He feels—numb. Empty. "Kurt, are you okay?"

No, Kurt wants to say. The boy I've loved for the past two years just admitted that he cheated on me—and it only took him, what, three weeks? And what's even worse is that I feel guilty about it, because I'm the one who left him there alone, knowing that he has no one but me, that his family life is in ruins, that all of his friends came through me first. And I hate myself for that and him for making me feel guilty for his choices, what he decided to do.

Kurt can’t say any of those things aloud, so he stays quiet. He hears Rachel sigh.

"I have ice cream," she says, coaxing. "And _Moulin Rouge!_ and _Funny Girl_. Come out and we can wallow together." She raps against the door, the rasp of her knuckles pleading. "Please, Kurt. I know you're hurting right now, but so am I—we can help each other through this. Isn't that what best friends are for?"

Kurt considers it. He sits up, slow and tired. Ever since Blaine's visit, he moves like an old man—his bones _ache_ , his body feel stretched and useless.

"I just want to be alone, Rachel," he says. His voice sounds cracked, ragged at the edges—it's the first time he's spoken aloud since Finn left.

There's a pause outside the door. "Kurt, I want to help you. I want us to help each other," Rachel whispers. "Please come out."

Kurt considers the door, then looks back at the bed. Looking at it hurts—every time he sees Blaine's face, the anguish in his eyes as they laid down to sleep, not speaking to each other. He keeps hearing Blaine say _I'm sorry_ over and over, can't get Teenage Dream out of his head.

"Yeah," Kurt says, standing. "Okay. Give me a minute to tidy up?"

"Yes!" Rachel says, overjoyed now. "Yes, of course! I'll get the movies started. And the popcorn!" Kurt hears her hurried footsteps as she moves away from the door.

He takes a deep breath, then looks in his mirror. He looks like a walking corpse—his face is the palest it's been since his junior year of high school, he has dark circles under his eyes, his mouth is dry, chapped. He runs a hand through his hair and grimaces—oily and unkempt, disgusting. He needs a shower, and badly.

Kurt opens his door and peers out, strangely cautious. Rachel is in the kitchen, quietly making popcorn. Kurt's laptop is on their coffee table, movies next to it—he and Rachel have yet to invest in a T.V. Kurt sneaks into the bathroom and starts his shower.

He tries not to think of all the times he and Blaine had in showers—both at McKinley (which he was never going to tell Finn, ever ) and at their houses, when their parents were away. Kurt liked messing around in the shower—it made cleaning up the mess easier and Blaine was incredibly hot with water pouring off of him—

Kurt takes a deep breath. No thoughts of Blaine, not tonight. He doesn't want to think about Blaine's lips against his own, the way Blaine was so easy to hold, the way Blaine had supported and loved him at his worst. He doesn't want to wonder about Blaine's hook-up—if he's better looking than Kurt, better in bed than Kurt. If he's worth everything Blaine threw away.

He steps out of the shower feeling more like himself and wraps a towel around his hips. In the living room, Rachel settles down, setting out candles. She glances up when Kurt exits and her eyes soften.

"Feel better?" she asks.

Kurt tries to smile, but his muscles stopped working that way the moment Blaine said I was with someone . "Much," he rasps. "What're we watching first?"

" _Moulin Rouge!_ ” Rachel says. "Then _Funny Girl_. Maybe _Breakfast at Tiffany's_ , if we can fit it in?"

"Or _Roman Holiday_ ," Kurt says. "I always liked that one."

Rachel smiles. "Me too," she admits. "Finn—" her voice catches and she coughs before trying again. "Finn always thought it was too sad."

"So did—" Kurt stops, mouth thinning.

Rachel shakes her head. "Come on," she says. "Go get dressed and we can start. Not that the thought of watching movies with you in a towel isn't one of my dearest fantasies . . . ." She smiles again, waggles her eyebrows.

Kurt rolls his eyes. "I'll be right back," he says and slips into his bedroom.

He pulls on comfortable yoga pants and a simple, clean shirt and runs through a shortened version of his nightly routine, trying not to wonder if Blaine still does his, if he's doing it right now back in Ohio. He runs a comb through his hair and goes back into the living room, which is dark except for the candles and the glow of the screen. Rachel sits on their couch, legs pulled up to her chest, chewing on popcorn.

Kurt slides next to her and Rachel immediately curls into his side, resting her head on his shoulder. He sighs against her hair and wraps an arm around her shoulder as he reaches out with his free hand to start the movie.

_"There was a boy, a very strange enchanted boy . . . ."_

"We're going to be okay, right?" Rachel asks, sounding very small.

Kurt remembers her return to New York when she went after Finn. He had almost been tempted to go with her, but the thought of seeing Blaine again, knowing what he'd done, hurt too much and he'd stayed home. Rachel had come back with tear stains on her face, eyes hurt and angry, on the edge of collapse, and said that she and Finn were done, officially over. Kurt had envied her certainty. Now he only feels sad for her, for himself—and even for Finn and Blaine, in a way. They'd been so in love and now it was all broken.

Kurt kisses Rachel's head. "We're going to be okay," he promises, and hopes it will come true.


	2. the day i first met you

Life continues on for Kurt. Vogue.com consumes much of his time, his thought, his energy—and when he comes home, late at night and exhausted, Rachel is always there with movies, mindless chatter, and the all important cake. He finds that he rarely has time to think about heartbreak in his daily routine. Instead, thoughts of Blaine come to him when he's on the edge of sleep, alone in his bed, surrounded by darkness. He stares at his off-white ceiling and counts the dots there as he thinks about Blaine's smile, his innate kindness, the way his eyes light up when Kurt enters a room, the way his mouth looks when he says _I love you_ , when he says _I was with someone_ —

Kurt only allows the tears to come at night. If he wakes the next morning with puffy skin under his eyes, he never allows himself to think of the reason why.

As the days pass, Kurt finds himself getting more and more tense. He snaps at other interns at work, when Rachel complains of Cassandra July for the nth time, at random hobos on the street. He gets irritated at the smallest things, the easiest slips, and soon he becomes a seething mass of tight, angry emotions—his hair flops, his eyes develop dark circles, his fashion suffers . . . .

After a week, Kurt looks at himself in the mirror—dead-eyed, droopy, clearly not at his best—and comes to a decision. He needs to unwind, to forget. He needs a night to himself, where he won't think of Blaine or their failed relationship.

"Rachel," he says that night, after he gets home from work. "I'm going out tonight."

She gives him a puzzled look. "For coffee?" she asks.

Kurt rolls his eyes. " _Out_ ," he stresses.

Rachel's eyes widen and she stops in the process of making her nightly cup of chamomile tea. "To a club?" she asks, completely scandalized. "A _gay_ club?"

Kurt sighs. "I just—" he shakes his head. It sounds stupid in his head to say that he needs a night of abandon, a night to forget Blaine ever existed. He doesn't even know if it's possible—his night at Scandals hadn't exactly made him crazy about gay clubs. But it's the only way he can think of to at least _try._

Rachel's eyes soften. "Do you want me to come with you?" she asks.

Kurt smiles. "Yes, if you're willing," he says. He's heard too many things about New York City's nightlife to be completely comfortable going himself. He winks. "Maybe you'll even get picked up."

Rachel laughs. "How could they resist all _this_?" She gives a little shimmy.

"You could get it any day and you know it, Berry," Kurt tells her. "Especially after my makeover."

Kurt’s still privately smug about that little experiment. Rachel looks more polished than she ever has in her life, and Kurt can't help but preen whenever men and women stare at her in the street, as proud as if they are staring at him instead.

Rachel beams at him. "Can Brody come too?" she asks.

Kurt frowns a little, but shrugs. "I suppose," he says. "If he wants to." Brody seemed nice enough the few times he and Kurt talked, but he is—well. Ridiculously good-looking and straight, and Kurt has never really had a good rapport with boys like that, not really.

Rachel takes out her phone and gives him a look. "Don't judge him until you get to know him, Kurt," she says, dialing. "Hey, Brody? Listen, I was wondering if you were busy tonight . . . ."

-

Kurt stares at the bright lights flashing out of the gay club and gulps. He had been so sure that this was the best way to forget about Blaine, but now that he's actually _here_ —

"Don't fold on me now, Hummel," Brody says at his shoulder. He grins at Kurt. "It looks like a bit much, but I promise it's more fun than frightening." He makes a sign with his hand. "Scout's honor."

"How do you even know about this place?" Kurt asks as Rachel comes up on his other side and links their arms.

Brody shrugs. "My old roommate used to drag me out here so he could pick up guys. It was a lot of fun, actually."

Kurt thinks about what any of the guys back at Lima would have thought about hanging out at a gay bar. He doubts any of them would have thought it was _fun_. As much as he loves Finn, it's really, really hard to dislike Brody.

He eyes the people in line and tugs self-consciously on his corset—the one he hasn't pulled out since sophomore year, when he'd realized that he was far too fashion-forward for a backward place like Lima. He's surprised it still fits—he had to loosen the laces a tad, but otherwise it's perfect. That, combined with his skin-tight black jeans and favorite bitch boots, are perfect for a club, in Kurt’s opinion. Looking at the rest of the crowd—most of them wearing some sort of fishnet—he wonders for the first time in his life if he's made the wrong fashion decision.

Brody leads them to the front of the line and the doorman waves them through without even looking at their IDs. Inside, lights pulse to the heavy beat of something that sounds like techno.

"I'm going to go get a drink," Brody shouts over the music. "Did you guys want to come with?"

"Kurt's going to dance," Rachel yells, giving Kurt a stern look. "I'll come with, though."

Kurt wants to protest—the dance floor is a writhing mass of bodies, twining together so tightly that it's hard to see where one person begins and the next ends. But Rachel is right. He wants to forget tonight, and the dance floor is probably the best place to do that. Kurt takes a deep breath then soldiers forward, pushing his way onto the floor.

For a moment, he's swept away by the people, the press of bodies, the smell of sweat and sex. Then he takes another deep breath. He is _Kurt motherfucking Hummel_ and a little thing like a gay dance floor is not going to send him screaming for the hills. Everyone might think he's some sort of wilting flower and sexual pansy, but he _isn't_. For a moment, Kurt wishes Sebastian was there, just so Kurt could rub in his face how little all of this freaks him out.

There's a pause as one song stops and another begins: Kurt uses that to gather his courage. As a heavy base line thumps through the speakers, he begins to twist his hips. He ignores how awkward and thoroughly unsexy he feels—he knows he isn't. He isn't . Instead, he tries to focus on the moment, on the way it feels to move his hips, on the smell and warmth of the people around him. Kurt wishes he'd had a drink first, though he'd sworn off alcohol after his incident with Ms. Pillsbury. A drink would have loosened him up enough to make this easy.

Slowly, though, he relaxes. It's easier with everyone around him ignoring him for the most part, all of them focused on grinding up against their own partners. Kurt watches them for a moment, smiles, then throws his hands up. He closes his eyes and lets himself go—the music is all that matters, the twist of his hips.

He dances that way for a while—one song turns into another into another—for so long that he jumps out of his skin when hands grasp his hips. He half-turns to see a blinding smile.

"Do you mind?" the guy says—or mouths, since Kurt can't hear him over the music.

Kurt considers him. He's blond, blue-eyed, tall. _Everything Blaine isn't_ , a little voice whispers in the back of his head. Kurt shoves it away and smiles back.

"No!" he mouths back and they begin to move together.

Tall, Blond and Handsome isn't a bad dancer. And he's the gateway dance partner—after one song, Kurt is pulled away by another guy, then another, then another—Kurt feels dizzy from the attention, from the erections he can feel pressed into the small of his back, from the heat and the press of bodies.

Kurt is grinding with a tall Hispanic boy when the song changes— _Single Ladies_. Kurt grins and throws the boy off of him, moving to a clear spot in the dance floor. He's hyped up enough on dance and the attention to not care who sees him do this, to not think it embarrassing as he strikes a pose and begins. As he mimics Queen Beyonce, people began to give him room, clear the space. Men around him hoot and holler as he slaps his ass, flips his damp hair out of his eyes. Kurt grins.

Sudden hands clench his gyrating hips. Kurt pauses, but when the hands only squeeze and don't restrict, he throws his head back and keeps moving, mindful of the partner behind him, whose hips move in alignment with his own. Kurt grins wickedly to the boys around him as he slaps his partner's ass instead of his own, throws his hand with as much sass as he can and, in general, has the best time he can remember since he broke up with Blaine.

When the song is over, Kurt pauses to catch a breath as the rest of the dancers fill up the space around him again, some of them clapping him on the shoulder and grinning, wide and amused. He remembers for one vivid moment the way the football boys had reacted when he'd taught them that dance. Sometimes he can't get over how different New York is.

"A sex life did wonders for your dance skills."

Kurt freezes at the whisper in his eye--his partner, he realizes with distant horror, who’d stayed behind him even as others moved on. His partner, who has a voice Kurt _knows_ , knows all too well. He whips around to meet the smirking face of Sebastian Smythe with the kind of horrified terror that he can only remember feeling around Dave Karofsky when he was still a bully.

"Not _you_ ," Kurt breathes. Over the music it's impossible to hear, but Sebastian smirks anyway.

"Nice to see you too, Kurt," he yells. A guy knocks into Kurt's side and he goes crashing into Sebastian's chest. Sebastian catches him round the arms and grins down at him. Sebastian, Kurt realizes suddenly, is still as good-looking as ever. Kurt stomps on that thought until it dies a horrible, painful death.

"Wanna get a table?" Sebastian asks.

Kurt stares at him, incredulous. Then without saying anything, he turns on his heel and marches away, furious beyond belief. He'd been having such a good night and then _Sebastian Smythe_ of all people had to show up and ruin everything. If there _is_ a God, Kurt's sure his mission in life is to make Kurt's life as miserable as possible, and he has the evidence to prove it to any disbelievers.

Kurt spots Rachel and Brody at a table in the back, talking with their heads bent close together. He watches them for a moment, anger fading away a little at the besotted smile on Rachel's face, before stomping over to join them. Away from the music, it’s a little easier to hear.

"You will not _believe_ who I just met on the dance floor," Kurt says as he drops into the last remaining chair at the table. Rachel and Brody exchange looks.

"It wasn't Blaine, was it?" Rachel asks, putting her hand on Kurt's.

Kurt ignores the spike of pain at Blaine's name. "Nope. Two words for you: Sebastian Smythe."

Rachel gasps, though Brody still looks confused. "Sebastian's _here_? What—"

"You know it's rude to leave someone on the dance floor alone," Sebastian interrupts as he saunters up to their table, hands in his pockets and a grin on his face.

"Well it's rude to come to a gay bar wearing the clothes of a rejected frat boy drop out, but I don't see that stopping you," Kurt snaps back.

"Kurt!" Rachel scolds, though he knows she thinks it’s funny. "Sebastian, it's nice to see you again," she says, perfectly polite as she turns back to Sebastian. "This is Brody, a friend of mine. Brody, this is Sebastian—Kurt and I knew him back in high school."

Sebastian turns considering eyes onto Brody. Kurt groans—he can already see where this is going.

"Why, hello," Sebastian purrs, holding out a hand for Brody to shake.

Brody merely smiles back, takes Sebastian's hand, and says, "Totally straight." Kurt wants to buy Brody a bouquet of flowers and some really expensive chocolate.

Sebastian raises an eyebrow. "No one is _totally_ straight," he says, still trying. Kurt grudgingly gives him points for persistence, then subtracts them for the horrible popped collar.

Brody's smile widens and he darts a glance at Rachel. "Straight enough that I'm not interested, dude."

Sebastian, to Kurt's surprise, makes a face and leans back. "Dude," he mutters, sounding disgusted. "Instant turn-off." It’s too bad that Kurt agrees--he doesn’t want to think anything Sebastian says is worth agreeing with. Sebastian sighs. "It's too bad," he says, eyeing Brody's admittedly sculpted body. "We could have had _fun_."

"I'm actually a little shocked that you have turn-offs, Smythe," Kurt interjects, crossing his legs primly. "After all, that would imply you have standards."

All three of them turn to stare at him.

"Now I know what you meant when you said he could be catty," Brody tells Rachel. Kurt turns on her with betrayal, but Rachel just shrugs and pats his hand.

"It's all part of your charm," she assures him.

Sebastian's snickering so Kurt kicks him in the ankle. "Ow!" he shouts, scooting back, away from them. "What the hell, Hummel?"

"Gentlemen don't snicker," Kurt informs him. "Especially not gentlemen of Dalton."

"Is that what Blaine told you?" Sebastian asks.

Kurt doesn't look, but he can feel the sudden tension from Rachel and Brody. He takes a deep breath around the pain Blaine's name brings. "No," he bites out. "It seems like you and every other Warbler have forgotten, but I _did_ go to Dalton too, you know." He rolls his eyes. "Some of it stuck—though, thankfully not the frankly horrendous fashion sense." He shudders, remembering some of the get-ups Thad or David would wear on the weekends.

There's a strange light in Sebastian eyes—though that could just be the glimmer of the strobe light in the background. "You probably made a horrible Dalton boy," he mocks. "What with your diva attitude and all."

"Well, you'd know," Kurt says, flips his hair back. It's a little disgusting from the dancing and sweating and Kurt vows to double his skin routine when he gets home to make up for it.

"Sebastian, what are you doing in the city?" Rachel asks with a touch of desperation. Under the table she taps Kurt's knee twice: code for _be nice_. Kurt crosses his arms and tries not to look grumpy.

"I live here," Sebastian says. "My aunt got me an internship at her . . . newspaper. I start in a few days."

"That's lovely," Rachel says with genuine warmth. Kurt sometimes wonder that Rachel can forgive people so easily. "Are you going to school as well?"

Sebastian's face shutters. "No," he says. "No, I'm not." He stands. "Well, I'd better go. So many people to meet, you know?" He winks for good measure, but it feels half-hearted. Kurt watches as he strides across the dance floor, disappears into the writhing bodies.

"Was it something I said?" Rachel asks, stricken.

Kurt pats her hand. "We're better off without him," he says. "With any luck, that'll be the last we ever see of him."

-

Kurt should've known better than to trust luck, that great bitch. She's never been on his side.


	3. but now that i get you

Kurt is typing up a new article when Isabelle drops by his desk, smiling bright. He smiles back at her and straightens in his chair as she approaches, trying to look professional. It still amazes him that he's on casual speaking terms with Isabelle Wright, that she knows his name.

"Kurt, I just wanted to let you know that we have a new intern arriving this afternoon," Isabelle says. She leans in, confiding, "He's actually my nephew. My brother sent him here because he’s causing some . . . trouble at home.”

Kurt smiles. "Ooh, a troublemaker," he says. "Is he cute? I've always had a thing for bad boys."

Isabelle laughs. "He's adorable," she assures him. She pauses, then adds, "And also very, _very_ gay, so." She winks. Kurt hits her arm before he realizes that this is _Isabelle Wright_. He flushes, but she just laughs. "I think this'll be good for you," she says, and her laughter softens. "You're still broken up with your boyfriend, aren't you?"

Kurt's stomach flops and he forces a smile. "Sadly, no dramatic reunion has yet to occur," he says. "I haven't talked to him since we broke up. He keeps texting me and telling me he's sorry." Kurt shakes his head. "I don't know why he thinks I can forgive him."

Isabelle considers him. "I don’t know what happened between you two,” she says. “But sometimes when we forgive someone we give ourselves permission to . . . move on, in our lives." She smiles, gentle, considerate. Kurt suddenly feels the urge to cry. "Remember that, okay?"

Kurt leans forward and hugs her. She's smaller than he is, he realizes, almost surprised. "Thank you," he says. "I'll try."

Isabelle smiles again and bops him on the nose with her finger. "Now, my nephew will be here in an hour or so. He'll be following you around to figure out what we do here, okay?" She winks. "So show him how a _real_ intern works, you got it?"

Kurt salutes her, watches as she sashays back to her office. He glances at the phone, bites his lip, and decides to think about it another time. Right now, he has work to do and a new employee to prepare for. He sighs, cracks his fingers, and gets to work.

-

[ ](http://unwritten25.livejournal.com/pics/catalog/262/14043)

-

Kurt is knee-deep in an article when Sebastian Smythe walks through Vogue.com 's doors.

"Oh no," he hears, though he registers it more as thoughtless noise. When he's invested in an article, he doesn't normally pay attention to little things like food or sleep or people. When he hears, again, "Oh _shit_ no—" he looks up with exasperation to see Sebastian staring down at him in horror, expensive sunglasses propped up over his dramatically wide eyes.

For a moment they stare at each other.

"Please," Kurt says, "don't say you're Isabelle's troublemaking nephew who's here for his new internship."

"Please," Sebastian says, with the exact same intonation, "don't say you're the promising new intern who's supposed to show me the ropes of this place?"

Kurt suppresses the flush of joy at being labelled promising and levels Sebastian with a glare. "How does this even _happen_?" he asks. "You never said Isabelle was your aunt. You never mentioned that the aunt you were coming to intern for was Isabelle Wright."

Sebastian rolls his eyes. "I must have forgotten to mention it at one of our numerous slumber parties," he says. "You didn't say you were interning here."

"You mean you _didn't_ get that Facebook message I sent you?" Kurt asks, all mock-surprise—which slips into the real thing when he sees Sebastian's lip twitch.

"Must have got lost in the mail," Sebastian says wryly. He looks around the offices, which are mostly abandoned. "Where is everyone? It's the middle of the day—"

"They had an early meeting," Kurt says. "Isabelle took them out for lunch."

"What, not pretty enough to be invited?" Sebastian mocks.

Kurt doesn't let the hurt show on his face—instead, he rolls his eyes, pretending composure. "I had some work to finish," he says. "You know, what those of us with respectable work positions do?" He sneers at Sebastian. "Not that you'd know anything about it." _Little rich boy_  hangs in the air between them and Sebastian glares at him.

"Just show me what the hell I need to do so I can leave," Sebastian says, all amusement gone.

Kurt looks at his half-finished article and sighs, standing. He can spare an hour to show Sebastian around—he'd promised Isabelle, after all.

"Come on," he says, standing. "I'll show you around the offices and then tell you what the interns do around here. Isabelle didn't tell me what you're going to be doing exactly so we'll just go over everything." He starts down the hall, Sebastian trotting at his heels.

"Great," Sebastian groans. "I'm so excited."

Kurt doesn't look back at him. "Over there is the main conference area," he says, gesturing to the round table through the glass doors. "That's where Isabelle and everyone else work their magic." He can't quite keep the envy out of his voice—there's nothing more he'd love to do than actually be a part of the team, not just an upstart intern allowed to sit with them.

Sebastian snorts. "Yeah," he says. " _Magic_ , right."

Kurt stops and turns on his heel so quickly that Sebastian nearly runs into him. "Why are you even here?" he snaps. Sebastian's eyebrow raises. "For as long as I've known you, you've hated fashion—especially _my_ fashion, which is really what Vogue.com celebrates! So what's up?" He sneers. "Lose a bet?"

Sebastian's face closes off so quickly that Kurt actually takes a step back in surprise. "Something like that," he says—toneless, dead, utterly unlike himself. "Come on," he says, striding ahead of Kurt, who’s frozen in place. "Let's get this over with. The sooner we're done, the sooner I can get out of here."

Kurt stares at where Sebastian was standing for a long moment before he turns on his heel to follow him down the hall, his mind whirring with confusion.

-

"What happened to NYADA, by the way?" Sebastian asks as they finish the tour.

Kurt tenses, but says, "I didn't get in."

Sebastian's silent for long enough that Kurt looks back at him—his eyebrows are drawn together in something like surprise. "Oh," he says at last. "That's—"

"—what you expected?" Kurt asks, bitter.

Sebastian rolls his eyes. "That's _too bad_ ," he says and Kurt feels a bit guilty. Sebastian eyes him. "You know, I think you're always going to expect the worst from me."

"Well, you _did_ try to steal my boyfriend and blind me, so I think that's to be expected," Kurt snaps back. "Don't you have a  bar to be whoring yourself out at?"

Sebastian steps into Kurt's personal space so suddenly that Kurt can't even wrap his mind around it before he says, "Listen up, Hummel. This may be too much for your tiny, romance-obsessed brain to handle, but sometimes people like to have a lot of sex. And that's not a bad thing." Sebastian steps away. “So I’ll thank you to keep your prissy, judgemental little nose out of my sex life, thanks.”

Kurt stares at him. "And sometimes," he says, voice calmer than he feels, "people like to have sex with one person and have a real relationship with them." He glares up at Sebastian. "And that's _not a bad thing_."

Sebastian's mouth softens with surprise, and then quirks in a sort of rueful amusement. "Touche," he says. "Now can we finish this up? I want to get out of here before—"

"Sebastian!" Isabelle cries as the elevator pings open.

She spills out of it, followed by the rest of the employees, who chatter amongst themselves as they go back to their desks. Isabelle grabs Sebastian in a tight hug.

"I'm glad to know you made it okay," she says, pulling back and examining his face. "You didn't even call to let me know you were here."

Sebastian shifts, obviously uncomfortable. "I didn't think it was a big deal, Aunt Isabelle," he says, darting a look at Kurt, who does his best to maintain a straight face. "I take planes all the time, you know."

Isabelle waves a hand. "I just worry, that's all," she says. "Can't stand planes, myself. I always feel like they're going to crash. LOST ruined me for air travel, I’m afraid." She turns to Kurt, beams at him. "Thank you for showing him around, Kurt. I really appreciate it!"

Kurt can't resist. "Well, it's always good to catch up with old friends," he says.

Isabelle's eyes widen and she glances between them. "Old friends?" she asks, nonplussed.

"Kurt and I met last year, Aunt Isabelle," Sebastian says, glaring daggers at Kurt. "His boyfriend used to attend Dalton."

Kurt sees Isabelle's eyes widen in comprehension and hurries to say, "Actually, I went to Dalton for a small period of time as well," before she can correct Sebastian about his ex -boyfriend. Sebastian still doesn't know about Blaine, and Kurt wants to keep it that way. He doesn't think he can live with the ridicule. "Sebastian started the year after I left, though. We competed against each other in glee club competitions."

"I should've guessed," Isabelle says, attention distracted. Kurt sighs a little in relief, only to tense when he realizes that Sebastian's watching him, eyes intense. He gives Sebastian his best bitch face, but the intent look doesn't fade. "Ohio's a small place, after all. Ah well, this will just make it easier for you two to work together, I guess!" She beams at them. "Kurt, I'm expecting you to get Sebastian up to date on how things work around here, okay? Consider yourself his trainer."

"I think it'll take someone hardier than me to train Sebastian," Kurt comments. Sebastian glares at him, but Isabelle laughs.

"Sebastian, don't you dare give him a hard time," she says, leaning up to kiss Sebastian's cheek. "Kurt here is my angel—he's been more of a help since he started than all of my other employees combined." Kurt flushes at the praise. He's still not used to someone other than his dad or—Blaine being so vocal with their compliments.

"I'll play nice," Sebastian promises, but his eyes are wicked. "Or as nice as I can, aunt."

Isabelle pouts. "What happened to the little Sebastian who used to run around bum naked and call me Auntie Bella?" she laments.

For a moment, they're all silent. Then, unable to stop himself, Kurt bursts out laughing. Sebastian scowls at him, but Kurt can't stop.

"Bum—naked—?" he gasps out.

Isabelle is grinning like she's a cat who just caught a particularly fat canary. "Well, except for the cape ."

Kurt breaks out into even more peals of laughter and Sebastian's scowl deepened. "Aunt Isabelle," he says stiffly. "I thought we agreed to _never speak of that again_?"

Isabelle pats his cheek. "But it was so adorable!" she protests. Her innocence is ruined by the wicked smirk. "And Kurt here needs some something to keep you in line, you know?"

Kurt reaches in and hugs her before he can stop himself. She gives a surprised squeak and Kurt leans away, beaming at her.

"You're my favorite person," he tells Isabelle, then turns to Sebastian. "Don't think I won't ask for pictures," he threatens. Sebastian's face pales in a  amusingly dramatic fashion. "And send them to the _entire staff_." Not to mention keep them in his wallet to show Sebastian's conquests, if it came to that. But Kurt will keep that little strategy up his sleeve, for the tough times ahead.

"You're both evil," Sebastian tells them, then marches out, flouncing through the door to the stairway with the sort of pomp reserved for royals and the Kardashians.

"What a drama queen," Kurt observes, then smiles at Isabelle. "So, _do_ you have pictures?" he asks.

Isabelle grins back at him. " _Do_ I?" she says as they hurry into her office. And if they're cackling a little, there's no one around to see it.

-

It’s nearing the end of the work day and Kurt’s bored - he’s already finished all of his work for the day and most of it for the week, because unlike some people, he actually has the motivation to finish his projects. He glances over where Sebastian sits, mindlessly throwing a paper ball into the air, and huffs.

Sebastian’s eyes dart over to him and he grins. “Problem, darling?”

Kurt purses his lips. “You’ve been doing that for over an hour,” he points out, irritable.

Sebastian’s grin widens. Kurt wants to smack it off of his smarmy face. “I got done early.” When Kurt raises a polite eyebrow of disbelief, Sebastian makes a face. “Okay, so I ditched my work early, so what? Most of it isn’t due until the end of the week.”

“This isn’t like homework , Sebastian,” Kurt says, pouring as much disgust as he can into it. Sebastian blinks at him, taken aback. “If you don’t complete things on time, everyone suffers for it, not just you.” Kurt leans forward over his desk, eyes narrowed. “So get your shit together or so help me _I will put it together for you_.”

For a moment, Sebastian seems blessedly speechless. Then he grins, wide and slow and wicked. “You’re not so bad when you’re being all commanding, Hummel.”

Kurt throws his hands up in the air in despair, pointedly ignoring the way his face is flushing. “I give up,” he says, and ignores Sebastian for the last 20 minutes of their day.

 


	4. i know fear is all it really was

Kurt’s engrossed in an episode of _Teen Wolf_ over his break, eyes glued to his computer screen as he inhales his salad. Usually he likes to sit with his co-workers and chit-chat but there are times when he just wants to be alone--well, alone with Derek Hale’s abs to keep him company. Kurt doesn’t admit it to his cultured friends, but he enjoys cheesy, overdramatic teen fantasy T.V. shows far too much. He owns all of _The Vampire Diaries_ , keeps up avidly with _True Blood_. That and his secret love of One Direction are all details of his personal life he plans to never reveal to his glamorous co-workers, who talk about reading Vonnegut on their days off or attending high-end art galleries.

 

Kurt can understand the appeal of art galleries and classic books--he likes them sometimes himself. But Kurt likes these shows too, watches them to make himself feel better, uses them the same way he uses mac and cheese as comfort food. The abs and eye candy don’t hurt either--like now, when one of the werewolves is ripping off his shirt for no other reason than to be shirtless.

 

Kurt doesn’t hear the footsteps behind him until it’s too late to hit pause.

 

“Let me guess,” Sebastian says, leaning over Kurt’s shoulder. “You watch this show for the plot, right?”

 

Kurt jumps, fumbles for the pause button, face burning as if he’d just been caught watching porn. “Can I help you?” he snaps, heart thundering.

 

Sebastian grins down at him. “Don’t worry, princess,” he says, flopping into a nearby chair with a boneless grace that Kurt doesn’t want to admire or notice. “I won’t tell anyone your dirty little secret.”

 

Kurt glares at him. “I know it’s a stupid show,” he admits finally. “But it’s fun.”

 

Sebastian waves a hand. “Whatever floats your boat. Personally, I find werewolves over-rated.”

 

“Vampire fan?” Kurt asks dryly. “You _would_ like the creature that sucks on a neck to live.”

 

Sebastian grins at him. “You know, vampires are so unimaginative,” he says, leaning forward. “I mean, they have to suck out of a major artery to live, right? Well there’s more than one big artery in the body. There’s one in the neck, sure, but there’s also one . . . .” He reaches over and before Kurt realizes what’s happening, traces the inseam of Kurt’s upper thigh. “Here.” Sebastian’s grin is dripping wickedness as he pulls away and Kurt knows he’s beet red. “If I were a vampire, that’s the only place I’d suck from.”

 

“Pervert,” Kurt accuses.

 

Sebastian only shrugs. “Guilty as charged.”

 

Kurt eyes him, embarrassment fading a little. “What shows do you like?” he asks, suddenly curious. Back in high scool, he’d never imagined Sebastian had hobbies other than sex and spending all his time at the Lima Bean.

 

Sebastian shrugs, looks a little flustered. “I like movies more,” he says. “T.V. just takes forever to tell a story sometimes and I’m impatient. But I did like . . . well, _Friday Night Lights_ and . . .” He grimaces. “Well, I know about your secret fantasy love, right? Fair’s fair. I really like _Doctor Who_.” He glares at Kurt, daring him to laugh.

 

Kurt smiles a little. “I’ve seen some of it,” he admits and Sebastian relaxes. “There’s even a werewolf in it, isn’t there?”

 

Sebastian makes a face. “The best part of that episode was Queen Victoria,” he says. “And David Tennant’s face.”

 

Kurt’s smile widens. “You’re a geek,” he exclaims, half in amusement, half in wonder, because who knew that Sebastian was a real boy? “You’ve totally watched the episodes over and over again, haven’t you? Have you watched the classic episodes? Did you cry when that Rose girl left?”

 

Sebastian’s silence is telling.

 

“You _have_!” Kurt crows. “I would never have thought suave Sebastian Smythe was a geeky fanboy at heart.”

 

“How many times have you watched _Teen Wolf_ over and over, huh?” Sebastian snaps, looking irritated. “At least my shows have some integrity. Teen Wolf is just emotional porn with werewolves thrown in.”

 

Kurt waves a hand. “My show has shirtless hot guys,” he says.

 

“Mine has all of space and time,” Sebastian counters smugly.

 

“Badass archers,” Kurt says, raising an eyebrow. “Magic.”

 

“Badass companions. Science.”

 

“Derek Hale’s face.”

 

“David Tennant’s hair.”

 

“Lydia Martin!”

 

“ _Donna Noble_!”

 

They look at each other for a long moment and then start laughing. Kurt hasn’t laughed like this--huge, gulping, from the belly laughs--since before he broke up with Blaine. Sebastian’s eyes are crinkled up, disappearing into his laugh lines. It’s ridiculous and a little endearing.

 

“We’ll have to agree to disagree,” Kurt gasps as the laughter dies. He smiles shyly at Sebastian. “We could watch _Doctor Who_ during lunch one day,” he offers, even if he wonders in the back of his mind if he’s gone insane because this is Sebastian Smythe--

 

Sebastian smiles back, all warmth. “I’d like that,” he says.

 

-

 

They’re in the middle of a _Doctor Who_ episode during lunch a week later (and Kurt will never admit this, but _Doctor Who_ is pretty much resoundingly better than _Teen Wolf_ even though it lacks magnificent abs) when Sebastian leans over into Kurt’s space and asks, “Are you going to re-apply to NYADA?”

 

Kurt stares at him. On screen, the Doctor and Rose are in the middle of World War II Britain. “Maybe,” he says. “I don’t know. Why do you ask?”

 

Sebastian shrugs. His expression is inscrutable. “Just curious,” he says, leaning back. “I mean, this place isn’t going to get you anywhere anytime fast, is it?”

 

Kurt frowns at him, leans forward to pause the screen. “Do you really believe that?” he asks. “I mean, it’s not like it’s a big paper or something, but I could probably get a leg up if I kept interning here.”

 

“I thought you wanted to do theater,” Sebastian says, raising an eyebrow. “Going into fashion instead?”

 

Kurt shrugs. His future has been weighing more and more on his mind since his move to New York and he’s given it some thought. “I love fashion,” he says honestly. He doesn’t say that sometimes he thinks that fashion and singing are really the only things he’s good at. He doesn’t even know if he’s really that good at performing in a non-musical context--the only time he ever tried he literally got laughed off stage. “Isabelle likes me, I’m sure she’d be willing to help me get my name out into the industry.”

 

“Designing?” Sebastian asks, nose wrinkling. “Do you know how long it takes to get established?”

 

Kurt shrugs. “A long time,” he says. “I’m 19, Sebastian, I’ve got some time. And it was just an idea.”

 

“Do you even have any designs?” Sebastian asks, and it surprises how persistent Sebastian is, how interested in it he sounds.

 

Kurt thinks of his small portfolio at home, slowly developed from his late teens onwards. He’s never been much of an artist, but he can manage to put together sketches of clothes well enough. They look clumsy to him still, and he’s not certain he’d show it to anyone he doesn’t trust innately, like Rachel or his dad or--

 

“Some,” Kurt says. He eyes Sebastian. “What about you?” he asks. “You said you aren’t going to school, are you just going to--”

 

“Let’s keep watching,” Sebastian interrupts, flicking the screen back on. Kurt frowns at Sebastian, who keeps his gaze fixed on the computer screen, nonplussed by his obvious dismissal of the subject.

 

As Kurt turns back to the show, he puts the information in the back of his mind to be looked at later: Sebastian doesn’t want to talk about his future, and Kurt wants to know _why_.

 

-

 

Kurt’s typing up the last bit of an article when he hears a crash and a shout of wordless frustration behind him. He turns, in part out of curiosity and in part because he can recognize that voice no matter what the situation, to see Sebastian staring at the communal printer with wild rage. Kurt bites back around a laugh and slides to his feet.

 

“Jerry being hard on you?” he asks, all sympathy. Sebastian turns to Kurt and Kurt smiles a little at his dishevelment.

 

“Jerry?” Sebastian asks with disbelief. “This thing from hell actually has a name?”

 

“Emma named it,” Kurt says. “She said it reminded her of this character from a T.V. show.” Kurt admits that after [watching an episode](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=akvPTfDo-LU) of _Parks and Recreation_ he can see why. “Trust me when I say he never works - or when he does, he never does what he’s supposed to do.”

 

“Has my aunt,” Sebastian says, in the careful voice of those homicidally inclined, “ever considered _buying a new printer_?”

 

“Well, yes,” Kurt says, and it’s getting harder not to laugh now. “But our budget isn’t very forgiving, you know, and honestly we’ve all kind of gotten used to Jerry.”

 

Sebastian stares at Kurt like he’s lost his mind. “Gotten _used_ to him,” he repeats with disbelief. “You keep a printer that doesn’t work around because you’ve all gotten _used_ to him?”

 

Kurt shrugs. “He’s kind of pathetic,” he says, patting Jerry. “It’s endearing.” He pauses, considers, then adds, “And I wasn’t kidding about the budget thing.” Kurt raises an eyebrow. “Did you need help? I’ve learned most of the tricks by now.”

 

Sebastian makes an exasperated noise. “I was _trying_ to print out a hard copy of my article,” he snaps. “But then Jerry had to get a paper jam and he’s insisting that it’s still jammed even though I’ve already cleaned the paper out.”

 

Kurt makes a sympathetic noise. “Oh he does this at least twice a day.” He steps in front of Sebastian and fiddles with Jerry’s buttons for a moment until Jerry emits a beep that could, if one were inclined to personification, be constituted as smug before cleanly emitting two sheets of paper covered with bright pink type.

 

Sebastian grabs the sheets before Kurt can look at them, examines them closely, and, despite the color of the type, gives Kurt a huge, genuine smile. “Thank God! I thought I would have to write them out by hand!”

 

Kurt’s brain can’t quite move on from that smile, because he doesn’t think he’s ever seen such genuine happiness from Sebastian--ever. And damn if it didn’t look as good on him as arrogant sarcasm, the bastard.

 

“You’re welcome,” he says, irritable because Sebastian’s really ridiculously good-looking and Kurt doesn’t like noticing that.

 

Sebastian’s smile slips a little and Kurt does not feel guilty. “Thanks,” he offers. There’s an awkward pause. “I’d better get this to Isabelle. Hopefully she won’t mind about the color . . .” Sebastian says finally and hurries away. Kurt watches him go, eyes lingering a little. Jerry beeps again, pointedly.

 

“Oh be quiet, Jerry,” Kurt snaps and whirls around on his heel to stomp away.

 

-

 

"You know, we're going to have to talk about Blaine eventually."

 

Kurt tenses, stares at his computer screen where he'd been trying to write yet another article. He looks up to see Sebastian considering him over the top of his computer. He's ready to walk out if Sebastian looks smug or amused or arrogant. But Sebastian is only curious.

 

"We really, really don't," Kurt says, clipped, and returns to his article.

 

"You haven't mentioned him once," Sebastian muses. Kurt punches his keys with more force than necessary. "Which is unusual for an old married couple like you guys. I mean, whenever we talked in high school, he was always _Kurt that_ and _Kurt this_ all the time. Drove me up the wall."

 

"Probably because it reminded you he was sleeping with me, not you," Kurt points out before he can stop himself.

 

A moment of silence. "Me-ow," Sebastian says finally, but he sound amused. "Claws out, Hummel? Did it bother you that much?"

 

Kurt considers the computer and wonders if he should tell Sebastian how jealousy had eaten him up back in high school, that knowing Blaine was so willing to talk to a guy who was so obvious about his intentions made something hard and bitter pool in his stomach. It had hurt, he admits that now, because Blaine wasn't an idiot and Sebastian wasn't subtle. And every time Kurt heard about a conversation Blaine had with Sebastian that Blaine never told him about, he couldn't stop the hurt, because why not tell Kurt if it was all so innocent? Why continue doing it even if he knew that it hurt Kurt?

 

"No," Kurt lies. He darts a glance up and Sebastian looks thoughtful.

 

"Liar," Sebastian says. "Your little gay face crumpled every time Blaine and I had a nice little chat. You should have seen it when I told you about the Michael Jackson incident."

 

Kurt purses his lips. "In the end, Blaine chose—" he stops, remembers. In the end, Blaine didn't choose him, didn't choose _them_ —he chose a stranger instead, because Kurt was hundreds of miles away, immersed in a new life. Blaine didn't choose Kurt at all. He swallows, looks back at his computer.

 

"Hummel," Sebastian says, softer now. "What the hell happened?"

 

"It's none of your business, Sebastian," Kurt snaps, on the edge of his patience. He thought he got over this, he wants to be over this. "I have work to do, could you please leave me alone?"

 

"Sebastian!" Isabelle calls from her office. "Can I have a word?"

 

Sebastian hesitates. "I'll get it out of you one day, Hummel," he says before leaving at last. Kurt waits for his footsteps to fade before relaxing in his chair, abandoning his work altogether as he tries to breathe.

 

-

 

It’s late at night and Kurt’s phone is ringing again. Kurt doesn't know why he picks up when he sees that it’s Blaine (again). Maybe he's just tired of having it constantly ring, maybe he just wants to hear Blaine's voice again. Maybe he just wants it to be done.

 

"Hello?" he croaks out.

 

There's a moment of silence, as if Blaine's too surprised at Kurt actually answering to speak. "Kurt!" he rushes forward, words tripping over themselves. "I'm sorry, I wasn't expecting—"

 

"What do you want, Blaine?" Kurt asks tiredly.

 

"I just . . . ." Blaine sounds troubled. "Wanted to tell you how sorry I am."

 

Kurt considers it. "Thank you," he says.

 

There's a moment of silence. "Just . . . thank you?" Blaine asks, hesitant.

 

Kurt's hand tightens on his phone. "What did you expect?" he snaps, anger rising, sharp and wild because he’s so pissed about everything and talking to Blaine is just making it all rise to the surface. "Did you think I'd forgive you and everything would be right again? You _cheated_ on me, Blaine. And not some semi-innocent flirty text cheating—full blown, body on body—" Kurt shakes his head. He can't finish, can't force the words past his throat. "It's hard enough to talk to you right now." Kurt pauses, then throws in, "And I don't know if I can forgive you."

 

"Kurt," Blaine says, sounding desperate. "I'm so sorry, you have to believe me—"

 

"I don't _have_ to do anything," Kurt asserts coldly. "You've offered your apologies and I've accepted them. But you broke my heart, Blaine, and honestly? I don't know if I'll ever forgive you for it. Maybe, in time, we can be friends again." Kurt sighs. "I'd like that. But right now what I really want from you is space and time."

 

"Kurt, please," Blaine begs. "I still love you—"

 

"If you loved me," Kurt says staring dry-eyed at his walls, "then you wouldn't have cheated on me." He hangs up.

 

Kurt looks at his hands and realizes, with some sort of distant shock, that he's shaking.

 

-

 

Kurt starts to dream about Blaine. In them, Blaine is smiling with another boy, laughing with him, kissing him--


	5. Chapter 5

Kurt's phone is vibrating, and he knows without looking at it that it's Blaine. Blaine, who's tired calling him almost every hour for the past week, despite their last conversation. Kurt studiously ignores it in favor of his lunch time salad. Really, it's scrumptious. Mmm, greens.

Kurt jumps when the chair across from his scrapes across the floor—when he looks up to see Sebastian sitting across from him, he's barely even surprised. Kurt's not sure if it's because Sebastian loves to torment him or if he's just clinging to a familiar face, but Sebastian seems to follow Kurt around like a tiny little puppy dog. Kurt considers the thought, then says it aloud. Sebastian grins.

"Does that mean you'll put me on a leash?" he asks, leaning forward, eyelashes fluttering.

 _Don't be affected_ , Kurt tells himself, but he can't stop it—the blush already rages, spreading up to his ears. He curses his fair skin and innocent disposition as Sebastian laughs.

"Didn't get that kinky with Blaine, huh?" he asks with smug satisfaction, leaning back in his chair. Kurt glares at him and, on cue, his phone begins to vibrate again. Kurt's starting to think his life is just one big cosmic joke.

As the phone continues to buzz, Sebastian eyes it and Kurt's indifferent response with confusion. "Not going to answer it?" he asks, eyebrows tilting together.

Kurt doesn't look up at him. "No," he says, terse.

He tenses when Sebastian leans over to look at who it is. Sebastian lets out a low whistle when he sees Blaine's name flashing on the caller ID. "Trouble in paradise?" he asks. Kurt's fingers are digging into his fork and he stabs a fresh piece of lettuce with force.

"It's none of your business," Kurt says between gritted teeth. "So maybe you should just _leave it alone_."

"You know, back in high school, I thought you and Blaine were it," Sebastian says thoughtfully. Kurt's head snaps up.

"Was this before or after you tried to break us up?" he asks, on edge and not hiding it.

Sebastian laughs. Honest to God laughs. Kurt wonders if there's something hallucinatory in his salad. "After," he says. "When I gave up on Blaine after that whole slushy thing. You guys were perfect. Like, you both were basically the ideal couple that every gay rights campaign wants to showcase you know?" Kurt shifts uncomfortably.

"I wouldn't say that," he murmurs, thinking of their fights, their ugly break-up.

Sebastian shakes his head. "No, you were," he insists. "Which is why I want to know what changed now. You're ignoring his calls?" And in his voice, a thread of condemnation. Kurt loses it without warning, slams his fork into his salad.

"Well, what do you expect me to do to the person who cheated on me?" he snaps, half-yelling, getting the attention of the nearby tables. They all stare, but Kurt can't even summon the will to care. "What do you expect me to do to the person who _blamed_ me for cheating on him, who said he was _lonely_ because I was getting _distant_ and that's why he broke my fucking _heart_." Kurt's starting to get hysterical, but— "What on earth would I have to say to a person like that, huh?"

Sebastian sits in his chair, face blown open with surprise. He looks like Kurt just told him the sky is purple and dinosaurs once again roam the Earth.

"Blaine . . . cheated on you?" he repeats, dumbfounded.

Kurt suddenly feels exhausted. "Yes," he says, shoving his uneaten salad into his bag. "Yes, he did. Goodbye, Sebastian."

"Kurt!" Sebastian calls after him as he strides out of the dining room, but Kurt doesn't stop.

He barrels ahead full-stop until he finds the nearest bathroom. Tears sting at the edges of his eyes and once he's inside that safe, white space he lets them fall. Bathrooms are sanctuaries, in Kurt's opinion. In McKinley, the only peace he was able to find was in the bathroom—albeit, the girl's bathroom, but still. Kurt clutches a hand dryer, bends over it and sobs.

Kurt hears the door open behind him and attempts to straighten, to stop the steady flow of tears. He barely manages to hold back the flood as he turns. When he sees that it's Sebastian he lets out a hysterical little laugh-sob.

"What do you want?" he asks, voice swollen with tears. "Didn't get enough of my humiliation? Had to get the whole show?"

Sebastian steps forward. "Kurt," he says, sounding troubled. "I'm—" he hesitates, starts again. "I'm sorry. I didn't know."

"You know what, Sebastian?" he says, turning to glare at him. "I really _don't care_." He tries to march out past him, but Sebastian grabs his arm. Kurt struggles immediately, panic rising. He can't get free, he can't—

"Kurt!" Sebastian says, letting him go, throwing his hands up. "I'm sorry, I just—"

"Don't touch me ever again," Kurt snarls, then leaves.

-

The next day at work is awkward. Kurt expected it to be so, and it almost doesn't sting when Sebastian sits at another table for lunch, pointedly not looking at Kurt. He doesn't even know why there's a twinge of disappointment in his stomach, why he cares at all. It's Sebastian .

But, Kurt admits as the day draws to a close without either of them talking to each other, Sebastian is probably the closest thing he has to a friend at work aside from Isabelle. Because Sebastian's a perverted dick, but he makes Kurt laugh, he laughs at Kurt's jokes. Kurt remembers a time when the only people that laughed at his joke were Blaine and his dad. His heart tightens at the thought, so he shoves it aside.

Maybe now that Blaine's once again free—and Kurt has to swallow around the bile the thought brings—Sebastian isn't interested in Kurt anymore. After all, he only ever bothered Kurt in Lima because he wanted Blaine. Kurt laughs bitterly to himself as he starts to gather his things to go home. No one ever wants _him_ , after all. They all want _Blaine_ , the one who's so charming and doesn't act too disturbingly gay.

He reminds himself of Chandler, of the dozens of interested glances he's gotten walking down New York City's streets, but it doesn't make him feel any better because he can still remember Sebastian's eyes, intent on Blaine's face, and the way Blaine always got what Kurt wanted without trying: the solos in Glee, the lead in the musical, and now the McKinley election, according to Tina. When they were together, it was easy to be happy for Blaine because Kurt wanted Blaine to succeed—now, with his heart lying in pieces around him, Kurt can only summon the energy to be bitter.

"Kurt," Sebastian says, and Kurt jumps because he didn't even hear Sebastian approach.

"What?" he snaps, throwing his bag over his shoulder.

"We need to talk," Sebastian’s eyes are unreadable.

"You've made yourself clear," Kurt says, passing by Sebastian. Sebastian reaches out, grabs his wrist. Kurt jerks away, trying to get free, panic rising—

"I'm not going to _hurt_ you!" Sebastian exclaims, letting him go. Kurt stares at him, eyes wide. "Jesus, I'm not—I'm not that guy, okay? I was never—" Kurt's eyes narrow and Sebastian throws his hands up. "Okay, I _was_ that guy once upon a time! But I've changed!" He lowers his hands, stares at Kurt and Kurt can't ignore the hurt in Sebastian's eyes. "Why do you think I'd hurt you?"

Kurt rubs his wrist. Sebastian had barely even grabbed him—no bruise. "It's just a reflex," he says, looking away. "I guess my old Lima instincts haven't really left me."

There's a long enough pause that Kurt looks up. Sebastian looks— "It was really that bad?" he asks. "I mean, Thad said, but—"

"Thad talked about it?" Kurt asks, a little hurt. Thad and the other Warblers had promised they wouldn't after they found out about Kurt’s past.

Sebastian shrugs. "It was one of their Blaine days," he says. At Kurt's confusion, he adds, "You know, when they moaned and groaned about Blaine transferring? They re-lived his glory days, yadda yadda. It was actually hilarious. They always talked about you, though. Said even though you stole Blaine away, you were one of their best." There's something oddly searching in Sebastian's eyes now. Kurt looks away.

“I thought you forgot that I went to Dalton,” Kurt says.

Sebastian shrugs. “You’re so unlike the Dalton Man that it’s hard to remember,” he says. There’s contempt in his voice, but it’s not really for Kurt--maybe, Kurt thinks, a little surprised, it’s for the Dalton Man, of whom Kurt was so thoroughly lectured about during his short stay at Dalton. The Dalton Man: charming, successful, focused. The perfect aristocrat. “Those guys loved you, though,” Sebastian continues. “You and Blaine.”

"Yet they were still on board with the plan to throw a slushie full of rocks at me," he comments. It’s not really hurt he feels about that incident--he's never really considered the Warblers friends, not the way Blaine does, but he'd thought they liked him better than that . Even Karofsky never threw tried to damage him like that.

"It was all my idea, you know," Sebastian says.

"You're not really making a good case for me forgiving you," says Kurt.

Sebastian rolls his eyes. "Let me _finish_ , Hummel," he says. "I don't usually say this shit, alright? I just—It was all my idea and those guys were idiots to go along with it, but being idiotic isn't the same as being malicious." He sighs. "I said I was sorry for that, okay?"

"No," Kurt says, a little angry now. "You apologized to Blaine for his eye, but you never apologized to me for being the intended recipient."

"Well, I _am_ sorry. Does that satisfy you, princess?"

Kurt's spine snaps straight and he starts to march out. "You're such a gigantic asshole, I can't even—"

Sebastian grabs his elbow. It's as light as the touch to Kurt's wrist had been, but as Kurt pauses he can feel his heart fluttering in his chest. His rabbit instincts are on fire: flee, flee, flee, they tell him, running will keep you from getting hurt.

"I know you don't have any reason to trust me," Sebastian says. "Or—hell, even like me, okay? But I don't want you to hate me, Kurt."

Kurt stares at the long fingers curved into his elbow. He wonders if Sebastian plays the piano. "I don't hate you," he says, then pulls out of Sebastian's grip and walks away.

-

"So I couldn't help but notice that you and Sebastian aren't speaking to each other," Isabelle says over their morning coffee.

Kurt's proud that he maintains his composure. "I can't imagine what you mean," he says, taking a sip of his non-fat grande mocha.

Isabelle rolls her eyes. Kurt's a little jealous that she manages to make an eye-roll look elegant. "I mean," she says. "That a couple of days ago, you two were giving back and forth like old pals and now you hardly look at each other." She pauses and concern fills her face. "Did he do something to you?"

Kurt ignores the rush of warmth at her concern. "No," he says. "We just had a—disagreement. It's fine."

Isabelle considers him. "Is this about your ex?"

Kurt stares at her. "Are you omniscient?" he asks.

Isabelle laughs. Kurt likes her laugh, the way she throws her head back and just enjoys it. "No," she says, still smiling. "Just perceptive. So come on, tell a lonely old woman the gossip."

Kurt purses his lips, makes a snap decision. "Once upon a time there was a boy," he says. Isabelle's eye gleam with amusement. "This boy had a very lonely life because no one in his kingdom really understood him. Then, one day, he met his prince, who lived in a neighboring kingdom where everyone tried to understand each other, even if people were . . . different. The prince took a while, but eventually they fell in love. And they were happy."

Kurt's voice breaks and Isabelle's amused look softens. Kurt stares down at his hands. "One day, the prince and the boy met a . . . meerkat." Isabelle laughs and Kurt manages a smile. "The meerkat was interested in the prince, but the prince and the boy were in love and the meerkat didn't stand a chance. He kept trying and trying though, and even went as far as to try and injure the boy." Isabelle gasps, and Kurt takes her hand. "But the prince took his place instead, though the injury turned out to be minor. And the meerkat realized the error of his ways and apologized."

"What happened to the boy?" Isabelle asks. "Did he and the prince live happily ever after?" Her eyes betray that she knows it doesn't end that way, but Kurt realizes he needs to tell her anyways. Isabelle knows about Blaine, but Kurt never managed to explain the details of why they broke up: where before it was too painful to tell, now it’s too difficult to keep to himself.

"No," he says. "You see, the boy got the opportunity of a lifetime—to go to a land where he would be accepted and have his dreams come true. But it was very far away and even though the prince said he was okay with it, he wasn't, really. And even though the boy was just caught up in his new life and still loved his prince, the prince got lonelier and lonelier until he—" Kurt chokes on the words, his hand tightens on Isabelle's.

"Kurt—" Isabelle starts, worried, but Kurt needs to say it.

"Until he cheated," Kurt spills out. Isabelle goes still. "He cheated on the boy with another man and then tried to tell the boy about it, to say he was sorry. But the boy was just so hurt and confused and—"

"Oh, Kurt," Isabelle says, and pulls him into a hug. In her arms, Kurt is tense for a moment, unwilling to succumb. Then, without warning, he curves into her body and begins to cry.

"I'm sorry," Isabelle says into his hair. "Sweetheart, I'm so sorry."

Kurt hiccups around a laugh. "I didn't think I could cry any more," he says. "I've done so much of it lately."

"You know, when I broke up with my first boyfriend, I barely cried?" Isabelle says. Kurt blinks in surprise, leans out of her tight hug to look at her face. She looks a little wistful. "I didn't love him, you know?" She glances down at Kurt's face, smiles. "All I'm saying is . . . everyone grieves their own way. And if what you and your prince had was special, then you're allowed to be sad when it's over. An ending is always hard and you can take as long as you need to cry." She wipes away one of Kurt's tears. "Just remember that there's life after it too, okay?"

Kurt takes her free hand in his own. "I'm so glad I met you, Isabelle," he says, fervent because he means it so much .

Isabelle laughs, gives him a tight, quick hug. "Ditto, Kurt," she says and they stay like that, hugging tight, for a long time.

 


	6. now here we are, so close, yet so far

"So are you ever going to stop being mad at me?" Sebastian asks the next week, sitting down next to Kurt for lunch.

Kurt stabs into his salad. His silence is answer enough.

Sebastian sighs, opens his own box of lunch—sushi, expensive sushi at that. Kurt squashes the jealousy. "I don't know what I did to deserve it," Sebastian says, picking up a fork. Kurt watches as he stabs a piece of sushi and bites his lip. "I mean, I just asked you a simple question and it's not like I wouldn't have found out anyway—"

"Would it kill you to use chopsticks?" Kurt asks, unable to keep quiet and Sebastian rolls another sushi onto his fork. Sebastian pauses with it on its way to his mouth and smirks at Kurt.

"A traditionalist?" he asks.

Kurt glares. "Foreign food," he says, "is meant to be eaten as it is in its original country. Do think the Chinese take chopsticks to hamburgers?"

"Maybe," Sebastian says. He's still smirking. "But eating sushi with a fork makes a little more sense that eating hamburgers with chopsticks. Easier, too."

Kurt snorts. "It's not that hard," he says, then turns his head. "Emma! Emma—Give me your chopsticks, for God's sake." Emma, one of the minor editors, hands them over obediently—she brings sushi almost every day and, Kurt notes approvingly, her own chopsticks. Kurt turns back to Sebastian, whose eyebrows are rising, and deftly picks up a piece of sushi from his tray, popping it in his mouth.

"Thank you," he says to Emma after he's chewed, handing her chopsticks back over. She grins at him and Kurt winks.

"You may think it's easy but that doesn't mean everyone does," Sebastian says. He looks grumpy when Kurt turns back to him and Kurt's smile widens. "Just because you're ridiculously graceful—"

Kurt's eyebrow rises and Sebastian, to Kurt's shock, flushes. " _Freakishly_ graceful," he corrects, looking annoyed. "With chopsticks. Nothing else."

Kurt leans his chin on his hands. "You know, for such a Casanova, I thought you'd be better with compliments, Sebastian," he says. He leans in. "After all, they're the only way to make me forgive you."

Sebastian stares at him. "What about all that crap about compliments getting people nowhere?" he says, but his eyes are laughing.

Kurt grins. "Bullshit," he says. "Everyone loves a good compliment." He flutters his eyelashes at Sebastian. "Now, go on. Keep telling me how _graceful_ I am."

"Little bitch," Sebastian says, without any heat to it. Kurt sighs in mocking aggravation.

"That earns you another week of cold silence," he says.

Sebastian gapes at him. "Kurt!" he protests. When he sees Kurt's smile he repeats, slower this time, "Little. Bitch."

Kurt considers this. "Proud of it, meerkat," he says.

"I really don't look like a meerkat," Sebastian says, so immediate and exasperated that Kurt wonders if he hit a nerve with that one back when they first met. He hides a smile at the thought of Sebastian worrying over it afterwards.

"Have you ever seen a meerkat?" Kurt asks, poking the bear because it’s fun and he hasn’t had anyone to tease for a week. "You're practically twins."

Sebastian scowls at him. "Why did I want to talk to you again?"

"Because I'm charming and have ten times the wit of anyone else here?" Kurt glances over his shoulder. "No offense, Emma.”

She beams at him. Kurt wonders where on Earth she finds her cheer. "None taken!"

“And also,” Kurt adds, turning back to Sebastian, “because I’m so _graceful_.”

Sebastian groans. “I’m never going to live that one down, am I?”

Kurt considers it. “Probably not, no,” he agrees.

As Sebastian makes a face at him, Kurt realizes that he actually feels cheerful. For a moment, he marvels that Sebastian Smythe can make him happy, and then he’s too distracted by mocking Sebastian’s table manners to think about it anymore.

-

The next day, Kurt sees Sebastian eating alone and makes a snap decision.

"Just so you know," Kurt says as he sits down at Sebastian's table, "this doesn't mean we're friends."

Sebastian isn't quick enough to hide the smile when Kurt glances through his lashes at him. When he manages to school his face into a serious expression, he says, "No, of course not. I detest you."

"And I despise you," Kurt agrees. "Just so we're clear."

Something about the way his heart pounds seems suspicious to Kurt, but he ignores it, focuses on the small, warm ball of happiness in his stomach as Sebastian murmurs, "Yes, I understand."

-

"You're . . . _friends_ with Sebastian Smythe," Rachel says, eyebrow arched over her mug of tea in an entirely skeptical manner. Kurt sighs, put-upon.

"Friends is an over-exaggeration," he says, pointedly not remembering the hour he and Sebastian had spent that afternoon watching cat videos on Youtube and laughing together, the way Sebastian's hand had been a steady weight on Kurt's shoulder or the warmth it had left when Sebastian had lifted it away. "We're . . . friend _l_ _y_. So to speak."

Rachel's delight is aggravating. "Oh _no_ ," she says. "You're _friends_." She starts to laugh. "I thought you hated his guts?"

Kurt frowns at her, sour. "Well he's not trying to steal my boyfriend anymore," he says. "So that helps."

Rachel's amusement fades. "Does he know about Blaine?"

Kurt's proud of the way he no longer flinches at the name, can almost hear it without pain. Progress, he thinks. "Yes," he says. "It came out in an . . . altercation one day."

"Let me guess," Rachel says. "You bit his head off when he said something about it?" Despite the edge in her voice, her eyes are gentle. Kurt closes off anyways.

"Sure," he says, attempting nonchalance.

Rachel's eyes soften further and she puts her hand on his. "Kurt, you know I love you," she says. "If I was a man or if you were the slightest bit bi,  we would be having a love affair like _that_." Kurt is startled into laughter. Rachel smiles at him. "But sometimes . . . when you're angry or defensive or hurt, you close yourself off and bring out that sarcasm to defend yourself." She pokes Kurt's hand gently. "You're a hedgehog."

Kurt makes a face. "A—"

"Hedgehog," Rachels says, firm. "You wear your wit and your sarcasm like needles, and the moment a threat comes close you curl up and defend yourself. And that's not a bad thing," she hurries to add. "I don't know how you would've survived Lima otherwise. But we're not in Lima anymore, Kurt." She leans forward, kisses his forehead. Her lips are gentle and Kurt has a sudden moment of deja vu from when his mother used to do the same thing to him every night before he went to bed. "It's time to open up. Let that underbelly show." As Rachel leans back, she winks. "And maybe get some while you're at it, yeah?"

Kurt grabs a pillow and hits her with it. Rachel squeaks and hits him back with another one. "Rachel Berry!' he exclaims, hits her again. "What has college done to my innocent, virginal friend?"

"Well if you want to be accurate," Rachel says. "It was Finn that—"

She shrieks as Kurt pummels her with his pillow, gets up to run. Kurt follows, pillow at the ready, and in the return to normalcy forgets his anxiety.

-

_You think I'm pretty without any makeup on . . ._

Kurt blinks awake, groans. His phone is ringing, somewhere over to his right. He blinks at his alarm clock, groans again when he sees the bright red 4:44 A.M. shining back at him. Who on _Earth_ —

_'Cause you make me feel like I'm living a teenage dream . . ._

Kurt blanches. He reaches over for his phone, ringing on his nightstand, and stares at Blaine's grinning face. He should really change that ringtone, he thinks with a curious sort of numb detachment. With trembling fingers, he hits answer and holds it to his ear.

"Kurt?" Blaine slurs into his phone. Kurt slumps a little with relief—he knows that edge to Blaine's voice, has seen him drunk enough to recognize it right away. He's been drinking. Kurt had been worried for a moment that something had happened back home to his dad, Finn, one of his friends-- "Kurt are you there?"

"Blaine," Kurt says, rebuilding his ice shield. "What can I do for you at quarter to five in the morning?"

Blaine laughs. Kurt can picture him—something about alcohol makes Blaine sloppy, clumsy, over-affectionate. Kurt had thought that would be unattractive, back when they first started dating, but it only ended up being endearing. Just like everything else about Blaine.

"Just wanted to hear your voice," Blaine says. "It's been too long . . . Kurt, hey—Kurt? Do you," Blaine hiccups, "love me?"

Kurt stares at his bedroom wall. Through his window, he can see the glow of light through the buildings—the sun is rising.

"Yes," Kurt answers. "And no."

"Why not?" Blaine asks, curious with the innocence of the drunk.

"Blaine, where are you?" Kurt asks, unwilling to do this, not now, not when Blaine is drunk, out of his head. "Why are you drinking?"

"Boy's night out," Blaine answers, and Kurt has to stifle the immediate unnecessary surge of jealousy at Blaine being one of the boys. Back when Blaine first came to McKinley, Kurt had dealt with his irrational feelings about that, come to terms with it. It doesn’t matter to him anymore. "Sam said I needed a night out to forget."

"Sam—" Kurt starts, cuts himself off before he can say more.

Betrayal rises up in him and he shoves it back down. Sam is allowed to be friends with whoever he likes, and Kurt knows that Blaine needs a friend right now, that he couldn't find one better than Sam. But it hurts a little that Sam—who Kurt likes, who still lives in Kurt’s house, who Kurt has helped many times over—is apparently on Blaine's side of this fight. He wonders how Tina feels or Artie or--

"Said I was getting too depressed," Blaine continues, oblivious. "Why am I so sad, Kurt?"

"We broke up," Kurt says. Then, because sometimes Kurt is bitter and cruel because of it— "You cheated on me."

Blaine is silent for a long moment. "Oh," he says. " _Oh_. I remember." His voice clogs with tears and Kurt closes his eyes, feels older than he has in years. "Why can't you forgive me, Kurt? I'm so sorry. I'm so _sorry_."

"I know you are," Kurt says. "But I can't, Blaine. I can't trust you anymore, not after—"

 _You took my love,_ Kurt thinks, _and you took my trust and then you gave yourself to someone else. We were supposed to be forever._

"You weren't there, Kurt," Blaine says. "You were gone and I was so alone."

"That doesn't mean you _sleep with someone else_!" Kurt exclaims, voice raising into a shout. He quiets down, remembering Rachel sleeping only feet away. "I was lonely too, Blaine. I was in this huge new city with only Rachel as a friend, trying to rebuild my life so that I could follow my dreams. Do you think it was easy for me, leaving you behind, facing this all by myself?"

"No," Blaine says. Kurt thinks he's starting to sober up—his voice is clearer, his words crisper. "No, of course not. But you kept ignoring my calls, not texting me back. You skipped our Skype dates. You didn't care about me back here because it wasn't part of your glamorous New York life—"

Kurt pulls his ear away from the phone, stares at it in shock for a moment, then puts it back to his ear.

"—did it really surprise you that I’d go out of my mind with loneliness?!"

Kurt's heart ices over. "Blaine, I was starting a new life, that's true," he says. "I was trying to find friends so I'd feel less alone, trying to make a place for myself at my new job so I could pay my rent and follow my dreams. And I was so sad sometimes and so alone. But what got me through that was the thought of you." Kurt blinks, realizes that he's started to cry.

"Thoughts can't hold you, Kurt," Blaine says, voice flat. "They can't be with you. I needed you and you weren't there!"

Kurt's fragile hold on his temper explodes. "You _told_ me to do this!" he half screams into his phone. "I'm here because you told me to go, to follow my dreams. What did you think was going to happen, Blaine? I told you before I left that it was going to be hard, that there would be time that we wouldn't be able to see or talk to each other. And you nodded and smiled and said you understood and then went off and broke my heart because _you couldn't take it_." Kurt takes a deep breath, rolls his temper in. "I loved you enough to stay true even through the distance and the loneliness," he says. "I'm sorry that you obviously didn't, but don't you dare blame me for following my dreams, for being _happy_."

"That's just _it_ , Kurt," Blaine says, and Kurt can tell he's just as angry as Kurt feels. Kurt is oddly satisfied--he knows how Blaine is with anger, knows how he bottles it up tight. "You were happy _without_ me there. You could live without me! And I started to realize that I couldn't—I couldn't—"

Kurt's anger melts away and he's left with a bone-tired misery. "Blaine," he whispers.

"I couldn't live without you," Blaine says, voice cracking. "And when I realized that you could, I just wanted to hurt you. And I'm so sorry ." Blaine starts to cry: rough, wracking sobs. Kurt closes his eyes.

"Don't call me again," he says, and hangs up.

 


	7. have i not passed the test?

Kurt watches the sun rise that morning and when he goes into work he knows he looks like hell. His clothes are rumpled and barely match, his hair flops into his eyes. He gets looks from all of his coworkers, but nobody says anything until Isabelle comes in, takes one look at him, and ushers him into her office with a cup of coffee.

"You don't have to tell me what happened, Kurt," she says. Kurt stares down at the coffee in his mug and hears her sigh. "I want you to go home today, okay? Get some rest, take a little mini-vacation. We'll expect you back in on Monday."

Kurt looks up with a protest on his lips that dies when he sees the empathy in Isabelle's face. She knows who this is about, she has to know. Kurt curls into himself, nods once, and marches out of the office, out of the building. For once, all he wants to do is lie in his covers and forget everything about Blaine, about his new life, about—everything.

-

A pounding on his bedroom door wakes Kurt from his mid-afternoon nap that Sunday. He wakes up blearily and tries to throw one of his pillows in the direction of the door—it thumps sadly on the floor instead.

"Go away, Rachel!" Kurt yells, voice hoarse from sleep. "I need my beauty sleep!"

"Well, no one would argue that more than me," Sebastian says from the other side of Kurt's door. Kurt lunges from his bed and throws open the door, staring. Sebastian stands there, eyes amused, dressed in his usual horrible streetwear. His eyes flicker over Kurt for a moment. "You would wear boy clothes to sleep," he mutters.

"What are you _doing_ here?" Kurt asks, so surprised that he can't even be offended. "It's a _Sunday_ and—how did you find out where I live?"

"Isabelle," Sebastian says, side-stepping Kurt and going into his bedroom. Kurt stands there for a minute, unable to process, and Rachel pops her head in from the kitchen, eyes wide and guilty. Sorry! she mouths and Kurt slams the door on her.

When he turns, Sebastian is examining his closet. Kurt stifles the immediate self-conscious anxiety and moves over to him.

"Why are you even here?" he asks as Sebastian looks over his collection of brooches. "We’ll see each other on Monday--”

"You know, the entire office is gossiping about you,” Sebastian interrupts. Kurt gapes at him. "Look, Hummel, your raccoon eyes and frankly disgusting hair give me the heebie-jeebies and it's obvious you're still pining after Blaine even though it’s been weeks.” Kurt flushes, hates himself for being so obvious, but can’t quite tell Sebastian _why_ he’s still “pining” over Blaine, if it can be called that. “You need to go out,” Sebastian decides. “You need a night out to get over him." Sebastian pauses, smirks a little. "Something other than grinding up against random guys at bars, that is."

Kurt flushes. "That helped," he protests. It had—he'd been nearly normal for a week after that. "It's just—"

"Just what?" Sebastian asks, rolling eyes. "Can't stand the holidays without your hubby?"

Kurt hesitates. "It's just," he repeats, slow and careful, "that I talked to Blaine last week and it didn't go well."

Sebastian's eyes narrow. "Didn't go well, _how_?" he asks.

"It just—" Kurt sighs, shakes his head. "We never really had a chance to duke it out," he says. "He told me and then when he left the next day we weren't speaking and—"

"Kurt," Sebastian says. "What did he say?"

Kurt shrugs, oddly reluctant to admit to the details of the conversation he’s been stewing over for the past three days. "We both said things," he admits. "I was fine when I answered him but then I just—got really angry, you know? And he was drunk and I was tired . . . " He can feel tears threatening and he forces them back. "We both just said things we didn't mean. It was just horrible all around."

"Kurt," Sebastian says again, more quietly. "What did he _say_?"

"It doesn't matter," Kurt says, reluctant. Sebastian huffs.

"Kurt," he says, and Kurt folds.

"He may," Kurt says, looking anywhere but Sebastian, "have implied that his cheating was brought on my lack of attention and distance from him." He swallows, forces himself to add, “And that it was in part revenge because he realized that I was out there being happy without him and he couldn’t do the same back in Lima.”

There’s a long pause. Kurt can’t bring himself to look at Sebastian.

Sebastian swears under his breath. "We're going out," he says, fierce, determined. Kurt blinks, finally looks over to see that his eyes gleam with anger. Kurt is oddly touched. Sebastian’s face soften as they take in Kurt and he adds, "Take a shower," he orders. "Get dressed. I'll grab Berry and tell her to bring her eye candy and we'll all go that karaoke bar you all love so much. What's it called again?"

"Callbacks," Kurt says, a little dazed. "But—"

Sebastian waves his hand. "Chop, chop," he says. "Get going." He ducks out of Kurt's room. Kurt stares after him and decides that he doesn't understand Sebastian Smythe, not one bit.

-

At Callbacks, Sebastian pushes him to the front of the crowd immediately. Kurt wants to protest because he's still a little depressed and he doesn't really want to sing about his feelings, but before he can, Sebastian is talking to the piano guy and ushering him to the microphone.

"I don't even know what song—" Kurt starts, brow furrowed.

Sebastian laughs. "You know it," he assures Kurt. "Every ‘90's kid with a broken heart knows it, trust me."

Kurt rolls his eyes. "I barely remember the ‘90's," he says. "I was only six when we changed decades, remember?"

Sebastian winks. "You'll know it," he promises. "Now, break a leg!"

Kurt doesn't know what's more infuriating—Sebastian dashing off, laughing as he leaves Kurt on stage with a mic in his hand, or the sad truth that when the music starts, Kurt does recognize the song. He groans.

"My friend is making me into a walking cliche," he tells the bar over the piano intro, and there's laughter among the crowd. Kurt smiles, relaxing a little. "I guess this goes to all the singles out there," he says, and it's time to—

 _"[I want you to know](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NPcyTyilmYY),"_ he sings over good-natured groans and hoots of encouragement. Kurt smiles, continues on. He knows this song, likes it, has sung it plenty of times in his shower--but it’s hard to find a place to settle with it at first. He’s angry and bitter, but he doesn’t want to be, he doesn’t want to feel this way about Blaine, who really is his best friend. So at first he plays with it, swaying his hips suggestively as he sings, _"Is he perverted like me? Would he go down on you in a theater?"_ He hears cat-calls in the audience and tries to grasp his good mood with both hands and force it to stay.

 _"And every time you say his name, does he know that you told me you'd hold me until you die?"_ Kurt sings and his contentment fades as Kurt remembers Blaine's promise last year, how Blaine's eyes turned liquid when he said _I love you_ , to stone when he said _I was with someone_ —

 _"And I'm here!"_ Kurt screams into the mic, rage breaking free because Blaine promised him, they were going to be _forever_ \-- _"To remind you! Of the mess you left when you went away!"_

The bar is silent, staring. Kurt can see Sebastian watching him with unreadable eyes and can't bring himself to care because Blaine left him like this, broke his heart and walked away, took away his happiness because Blaine couldn’t understand how they could be happy apart. And Kurt loves him still, but he also hates Blaine a little for it, wants to spit his face and claw at his eyes almost as much as he wants to kiss him. Kurt hates himself for that, wants to forget about those feelings, but finds that he can’t, they’re too powerful. So he releases them in the only way he can: song.

 _"I'm not quite as well,"_ Kurt sings, and he knows how bitter he sounds. _"I thought you should know."_

Rachel, Kurt can see, has her hand to her mouth, her eyes large and sad. Kurt can’t let himself care, needs to ride out the wave of fury in him because he’s afraid if he doesn’t drain it now he never will. He builds on the bridge of ah’s, his voice almost sharp from his hysteria, from his rage. His eyes sweep over the crowd and settle on Sebastian as he stomps his foot and continues on with--

 _"'cause the joke that you laid on the bed that was me, and I'm not gonna fade as soon as you close your eyes and you know it."_ Kurt sneers, raises a middle finger to wolf whistles. _"And every time I scratch my nails down someone else's back I hope you feel it."_ To Kurt's surprise, almost everyone screams, _"Well, can you feel it?"_ with him, a powerhouse of sound.

They keep singing with him into the last chorus, some of them standing, stamping their feet. Kurt sees Rachel throwing her head back, screaming out, sees Brody beside her, beating out the rhythm on his table. Sebastian, however, sits still, watching Kurt with his intense, unreadable eyes.

As they all cut out on the last, _"You, you oughta know,"_ everyone's clapping loudly, whistling, stomping their feet, shouting for an encore. Kurt feels a blush coming on, but curtsies.

"To bad break-ups!" he says, voice hoarse, and everyone roars back at him in agreement.

Kurt hands the microphone over to the next person - a pale girl who stares at him wide, scared eyes - and moves down into the crowd, where he becomes the surprised recipient of a astonishing number of back-claps and compliments. Two guys stuff their numbers in Kurt's hand. Kurt thinks, a little giddy and hysterical, that he should have broken up with Blaine ages ago, it's doing wonders for his popularity.

When he reaches the table, Rachel immediately pulls him into a hug. "I'm so sorry," she whispers into his ear before she lets him go. She has tears in her eyes, but she's smiling.

Brody offers him a fist. Kurt eyes it, then decides to bump it with his own. "You owned that," Brody tells him. "I can't believe Carmen rejected you, you're _stellar_."

Kurt smiles and even though he still feels like his world's off-kilter he has a warm pit in his stomach knowing that someone other than his immediate friends and family enjoys his voice, his performance. When NYADA rejected him, he feared for a long time that his skill was something he'd built up in his head, that he'd imagined he'd had any talent at all.

"Not bad, killer," Sebastian says. Kurt winces.

"Don't call me that," he says and doesn't add, _that's what you called Blaine._ Sebastian, to his credit, looks a little abashed.

"I told you you'd know the song," he says instead.

Kurt rolls his eyes, relaxes a little. "Alanis Morissette is one of my guilty pleasures, I admit."

Another person starts to sing and Kurt wonders if life hates him when he realizes she's giving a trembling rendition of Teenage Dream. He looks up to see her staring out at the crowd wide-eyed and frightened, but it doesn't stop him from seeing Blaine laid over her, eyes full of tears. It's hard to breathe suddenly because the song helped but the feelings still linger like a bad aftertaste.

"I need some air," Kurt mutters, ignoring Rachel's sympathy, Brody and Sebastian's confusion.

He hurries out of the bar, pushing through the crush of bodies as fast as he can. Outside, in the cool night air, he feels a little bit better. He leans against the wall, pointedly not thinking of what the dirty bricks will do to his Dior jacket, breathes in and out. Tears burn behind his eyes and as much as Kurt tries to stop them from falling, he can feel them sliding silently down his cheeks. He rubs them away, furious at himself for crying again when—

"You sure do cry a lot for a boy," Sebastian says, taking a spot on the wall close to Kurt's side. His tone is gentle.

"Real men cry," Kurt says, voice little more than a sad hiccup.

Sebastian sighs. "Maybe this is why I don't do relationships," he says. Kurt glances up at him and its clear even through the haze of tears that Sebastian's expression is—open, vulnerable even. It's such a change that Kurt's drawn from his misery for a moment. "No heartbreak at the end, you know? I don't know how you stand it."

Kurt stares at him. It's dark and in the low, dim streetlights Sebastian is barely more than a profile: the curve of a jawline, the edge of a nose, a sweeping fan of eyelashes. But something about the softened curve of his cheek makes Kurt wonder if Sebastian's ever had his heart broken before, if he's ever cared for another human being more than himself. It's a thought that never occurred to Kurt when they first met, when he'd assumed that Sebastian was all sex and innuendo and one night stands.

Sebastian glances down at him and Kurt can see the gleam of green in his eyes. Carefully, cautiously, Sebastian reaches across and wipes away the tear caught on the tip of Kurt’s nose.

"I'm sorry," Sebastian says, and it astonishes Kurt how much feeling Sebastian puts into it, how sincere he is. Kurt never expected sincerity from Sebastian Smythe.

"I thought we were forever," he says before he can stop himself, because Sebastian is there and Kurt needs to say this aloud. "Blaine and I, I thought—" He hiccups. "I thought we would grow old together. We were supposed to be that adorable old couple that bicker and go on dates and wear matching bow ties. But we aren’t going to be. And I don't know if it's losing Blaine or losing that certainty that hurts the most. How horrible does that make me?" He laughs, a little unsteady. "What kind of person am I?"

"You're a good person," Sebastian says, so immediate and fierce that Kurt reels back a little. "You're fucking irritating as hell and sometimes I want to burn all your clothes, but you—" Sebastian hesitates, continues with, "You're stubborn and exasperating and a little bitch but you also forgave me for everything I've done to you and Blaine, and I know you forgave that Karofsky kid too even though he did worse things to you, and God knows you’ll probably forgive Blaine at the end of all this. And you've helped my aunt as much as you can and she adores you." Sebastian takes a deep breath. "I admit that I don't know much about what you're going through, but I can tell you that Blaine is not the be-all end-all to who Kurt Hummel is as a person. You are more than your relationship, Kurt. And if you think you miss the certainty of being in love more than you miss Blaine, that doesn't make you horrible or selfish, it just means that—well, it means you're a person . You're allowed not to have perfect reactions to things because you're not perfect and that's how it's supposed to be."

Kurt knows he's staring, but he can't seem to stop.

"You must be a robot," he rasps and Sebastian laughs.

"You're not the only one that's changed since high school," he says. "I grew up a little."

Kurt shakes his head. "I never thought you could do that," he says. He finds, to his surprise, that his tears have stopped. "Thank you," he adds, because he means it and Sebastian deserves it. "I mean—I— _Thank_ you."

For a long moment, Sebastian doesn't speak. Then, to Kurt's surprise, he takes Kurt by the hand and begins to pull him in the direction of the club. "Let's go back inside," he says.

Kurt stares at their entwined hands and lets himself be pulled.

-

It's funny how Kurt becomes so used to Sebastian in the next weeks. If there had been a time in high school when someone had told him Sebastian Smythe would be counted as one of his good friends, Kurt would have laughed them out of the room. But now it's—different.

For one, there's no Blaine hanging between them, making a relationship impossible. It's easier to stand Sebastian now that Kurt isn't constantly worrying that he'll steal Kurt's boyfriend away. And it helps that Sebastian doesn't mock his "gay face" as much as usual, keeps his insults purely on Kurt's work ethic or taste in clothes. Kurt can handle that with more grace and less hurt.

And when there's not that antagonism, it's easier to appreciate Sebastian for who he is: a vain, arrogant idiot with bad fashion taste and a talent for witty comebacks that rival Kurt's own. And it's easier to see the Sebastian who likes French and scifi TV shows and top 40 pop music.

They start spending a lot of time together—as interns, they already live in each other's pocket, but Sebastian starts coming out with Kurt and Rachel (and Brody) on their nights off. They go to Callbacks and egg each other through solos, or to a night out to an off-off-off-Broadway production and leave the theatre gasping with laughter. Sebastian becomes, to Kurt's everlasting surprise, a friend—a good one.

 


	8. when will you realize, that baby i'm not like the rest?

Kurt is coming in early one morning when he spots Sebastian hanging around outside the Vogue.com building, phone cradled against his ear. A frown tugs at his forehead and his shoulders are tense. Kurt had started to stride over to say hello but slowed when he heard Sebastian’s voice raise.

“I _know_ , dad!” he exclaims, shoulders flinging back, expression tightening in anger. “You don’t have to keep telling me, I--”

From the way he bites back the rest of his words, Kurt guesses he’s been interrupted. He watches for a moment, unsure if he should leave Sebastian to his obviously private conversation or if he should stay, see what happens. His decision is made for him when Sebastian gives the most derisive snort Kurt has ever heard and ends his call without so much as a goodbye.

For a long moment, Sebastian stares at his phone. Then he sighs, turns, and freezes when he sees Kurt standing there. Something ugly flashes across his face.

“Enjoying yourself?” he asks, snide.

Kurt bites his lip. “I just saw you there,” he says. “I didn’t mean to listen in--sorry.”

Sebastian softens a little, runs his hand through his hair. “Sorry,” he says. “I’m sorry, too, it’s just--I was talking to my father and he drives me crazy. You were just a convenient target.”

“Been that before,” Kurt mutters, thinking of Karofsky.

Sebastian, to Kurt’s surprise, pales, hurries to say, “Shit, I’m sorry--”

Kurt waves a hand. “Don’t worry about it, no harm done.” He takes in the defeated slump of Sebastian’s shoulders. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asks.

“Not really, no,” Sebastian says, regains some of his color. “My dad’s just--a bit much sometimes, that’s all.” He meets Kurt’s eyes, smiles. “Don’t worry, darling, I’m fine.”

Kurt makes a face. “As if I’d worry about you,” he mutters, and it’s one of the worst lies he’s ever told because he _is_ worried - Sebastian’s face is so pale, and Kurt could never imagine hanging up on Burt like Sebastian did with his dad. And Kurt knows that there are plenty of kids who don’t have a good relationship with their parents, but--

Well, he remembers how the Andersons were with Blaine and Cooper, he knows that sometimes family problems get . . . exaggerated when it comes to the rich. And it’s hard not to see the way Sebastian’s face has closed up, drained of warmth, especially after the past few weeks where sincerity has been blooming up from Sebastian like a flower getting water after a drought.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Kurt asks again, because he can’t not .

Sebastian smiles a little and the shuttered expression melts away a little. “I’m peachy, darling,” he says. “Come on, let’s get inside.” He smiles, and Kurt notices the bitterness in it. “Work to be done.”

-

It’s two days later that Kurt arrives, Sebastian at his heels, to find a man standing at his desk. Not an unusual occurrence since Kurt usually mans the front desk and they often have visitors, but this guy is dressed in dark, washed out jeans and a dark green hoodie--and Kurt tries not to be a snob, but they look like they’ve seen better days and were probably bought at Target. Kurt frowns, approaches, and the man turns at the sound of footsteps. Kurt pauses mid-step, struck, because the man has a different face, but his eyes--

"Kurt," Sebastian says from behind him, voice flat, "meet my brother, Braxton."

"You have a brother?" Kurt asks, incredulous.

"Guilty as charged,” Braxton chimes in, smiling. His face crinkles when he smiles in almost the exact way Sebastian's does. It's unnerving. "I can see Sebastian doesn't boast much about his beloved--and much handsomer, I might add--older brother?”

"More like not at all," Kurt says before he realizes that hearing your brother doesn't talk about you probably isn't the most flattering thing to hear.

Braxton doesn't seem offended, only amused. "Typical," he says to Sebastian, who just glares at him. "He hasn't met the parents yet either, I guess?" Sebastian's glare deepens.

"Why would I need to?" Kurt cuts in, confused.

Braxton raises an eyebrow, looks between them. "So you _aren't_ seeing each other?"

Kurt stares, shocked. Then he begins to laugh.

Sebastian tension loosens a little. "You know, darling, I don't find laughter at the thought of dating me very flattering."

Kurt can't seem to stop his giggling. "It's just," he says in between gasps, "the thought of _you_ dating. Hilarious." He starts to laugh again, full body chuckles.

Braxton grins. "I like him, Sebby," he says.

Sebastian rolls his eyes. "I'm not _five_ , Brax. Can we stop with that ridiculous nickname?"

"But you'll always be my wittle Sebby-Webby," Braxton simpers.

Sebastian makes a face. "Braxton Arringon Smythe III," he says, and it's easy to see why he's so smug when Braxton's face screws up in distaste. "I thought you had better _manners_ ," Sebastian continues, and Kurt realizes from the intonation that he's mocking someone, but Kurt can't figure out who. Braxton knows though, because he's laughing in the next moment.

"That sounds just like her," he gasps and Sebastian smiles.

"I've had a lot of time to listen to that lecture," he says.

Braxton catches sight of Kurt's face and explains, "Our mother," he says. "She has very strict ideas on what constitutes good behavior."

Braxton and Sebastian give the look of siblings sharing a secret and Kurt realizes, a little uneasy, that he's never asked about Sebastian's family, his home life. He knows that Sebastian doesn’t have a good relationship with his father from the phone call he overheard, but he doesn’t know about Sebastian’s mother, or, obviously, his brother, though it seems they’re on better terms than Kurt would’ve expected had he know Braxton existed. Still, Sebastian never mentioned he had a brother and Kurt would flatter himself that they are, at least, somewhat friends. Kurt wonders why Sebastian doesn't talk about his family, realizes a little self-consciously how often he talks about his own.

"So what brings about the visit?" Sebastian asks.

"I wanted to see Aunt Isabelle," Braxton says. "Can you believe I haven't seen her since I was twelve? And to make sure you weren't sleeping your way through New York, of course."

Kurt's ears burn, but Sebastian rolls his eyes. "Of course not," he says. He darts a look in Kurt's direction, but his face gives nothing away. "You know none of them are good enough for me.”

"Oh, of _course_ ," Braxton agrees, and he gives Kurt a sly grin. "Maybe I can guess who is though, huh?”

Kurt relaxes a little, rolls his eyes. "I would never date anyone who thinks a popped collar is the height of fashion," he interrupts. Braxton looks delighted and Sebastian rolls his eyes.

"We're not talking about _dating_ , darling," he says.

Kurt scowls. "Fine," he snaps. "I would never have hot, animal, man-on-man sex with someone who thinks a polo shirt means he's got it going on."

Both Smythe boys stare at him before Braxton brakes out into laughter. "Oh, Sebby," he says, wiping his eyes. "I love this one. Where'd you find him?"

"Hell," Sebastian deadpans and Braxton starts laughing again.

Kurt stomps on Sebastian's foot—not hard, but enough to remind him to watch his tongue . Sebastian smiles down at him, a little fond. "Little bitch," he says and Kurt tries to tell himself that it's not an endearment.

“If you don’t mind, Kurt,” Braxton says, cutting in. “I need to steal Sebastian here. I promise to return him in mostly one piece.”

Kurt smiles. “Well, just make sure it’s the most important piece,” he says, and sweeps his eyes downward so his meaning is clear.

Sebastian gapes at him, but Braxton laughs and drags his brother away. Kurt watches them go, wonders what they’ll talk about, wishes he could be a fly on the wall and listen in. He sighs, shrugs his nosiness away, and goes back to work.

-

Kurt’s taking his break outside when he hears footsteps approaching. He looks up to see Braxton approaching, hands in his pockets.

“Sorry to intrude,” Braxton says as he stops near Kurt, smiling. “I’ve been set free on New York City and yet I find myself at loose ends. Mind if I sit?”

“No, not at all,” Kurt says, scooches over on his bench to make room. Braxton settles in next to him, all limbs and elbows and Kurt smiles as he realizes that Braxton slouches into his seat the same way Sebastian does.

“You seem pretty close to my brother,” Braxton says after a small, awkward pause.

Kurt shrugs. “I knew him back in Ohio,” he confesses. “He was a jackass to me and my friends then, but he’s grown up a little since then so he’s now worthy of my friendship.”

Braxton laughs. “Yeah, he’s changed,” he agrees. “A couple of years ago--hell, even a year ago--he was just this little shithead. Now he actually seems like he’s on the way to adulthood.” He shakes his head. “How that happened, I’ll never know.”

Kurt eyes Braxton curiously. “Do you mind me asking,” he says, “why--” He cuts himself off, embarrassed.

Braxton eyes him. “You could have a number of questions,” he says, smiling. “Why does an upstanding Smythe such as myself dress and talk in this way? Why doesn’t Sebastian talk about me even though we get on as well as brothers can? Why is Sebastian stuck at Aunt Isabelle’s company even though he hates fashion as much as any one person can?”

Kurt relaxes a little. “It was the first one actually,” he admits. “Sebastian’s much more relaxed now, but he was a pretty big snob when I knew him in high school. You’re . . . well, not much like that.”

Braxton shakes his head. “It’s a long story,” he says, and it’s the seriousness in his voice that takes Kurt aback. “But the gist of it is that according to my family I’m no longer a Smythe.”

Kurt raises his eyebrow. “What’d you do?” he asks. “Sleep with a married woman?”

Braxton smiles, but it’s a little sad at the edges. “No, nothing like that,” he says. “The Smythes are aristocratic but it’s been a long time since we disowned people for having sex. At least, for having properly _discreet_ sex when it’s outside of marriage.” Braxton shrugs. “My family and I disagreed about how I should spend my life, that’s all. And when my father realized I would never see things his way, he disowned me in both the literal and metaphoric sense.”

Kurt frowns. He knows Burt doesn’t understand Kurt’s dreams in life but he can’t imagine his father ever preventing him from following them or cutting Kurt off because of them. He can’t imagine any father doing that, really.

“What did your father want you to do?” he asks.

“We own a law firm,” Braxton explains. “He wanted me to run it after he retires, follow in the family footsteps. But all I’ve wanted to do since I was a little kid was travel and paint.”

Kurt smiles. “Paint?” he asks.

“I’m an artist,” Braxton explains. “My mother let us learn painting when we were young and even though Sebastian never took to it, I did. When I got older, the lessons stopped but I kept on with it--my parents never understood it and they tried to stop me once I got into high school.” Braxton shrugs. “Then I just did it in secret instead.”

“Any good?”

Braxton smiles, cheek dimpling. “Alright,” he says. “I’ve had some works displayed in galleries in Paris.”

“I thought you lived in the States?” Kurt asks, confused.

“I did for a while after my parents disowned me,” Braxton explains. “Then I got an offer to move to Paris to paint.” He shrugs. “I couldn’t give it up. It was only supposed to be for a year, but I ended up staying--France is very different from America, but I love it.”

Something dawns in Kurt’s head. “Sebastian stayed with you in Paris, then?”

Braxton laughs. “He brags about it, then? Yeah, he stayed with me for a while when he was, oh, 15 or 16, I think? He loved it--fucked his way through half of Paris, of course.”

Kurt hesitates on the question he wants to ask--he knows it’s a little rude, knows that it’s something he should ask Sebastian and not his brother. But he’s so curious about it that he can’t quite stop himself.

“Has he always been like that?”

“Slutty as hell, you mean?” Braxton asks, with the suggestion of a smile. His face evens out. “I think you’d better ask Sebastian that, Kurt. All I can say is he has his reasons. Relationships have never been very kind to him, and he’s the kind of kid who . . . is a little more affected by things than most people.”

It’s hard to reconcile the Sebastian Kurt knows with that: Sebastian always seems to shrug everything off with an enviable calm.

“Kurt, I know you and my brother are close,” Braxton continues, and there’s an odd, intense look in his eyes now. “I just want to make sure someone else is there for him, even when I can’t be, you know?”

“Of course,” Kurt answers, automatic because even though he and Finn have only been brothers for a little over two years, he knows what that feels like, to want to protect your siblings. Braxton smiles at him.

“Sebastian did good,” he says, standing and stretching. He checks his watch. “My, how the time flies when you talk about your dark past. I’ve got a plane to catch, but I’m sure I’ll come back and visit soon, yeah?”

“You’re leaving already?” Kurt asks, dismayed, standing as well. “I thought you’d be staying for longer--”

“Nope, I just needed to make sure he was okay after--” Braxton shakes his head. “Well. Anyways, we had a nice little chat and I can safely say he’s managing. With some help.” Kurt flushes and Braxton’s smile deepens. “In any case, I have a show in a few days that I need to be back for, so it can’t be helped.” He holds out a hand and Kurt shakes it firmly--before he can let go, Braxton pulls him into a hug. Kurt freezes, awkward. “Thank you for helping him,” Braxton says, pulling away.

“He’s my friend,” Kurt says, a little helplessly because he’s still not quite sure how that happened. “Of course I’d help him.”

Braxton laughs, though Kurt can’t see what’s funny. “I cannot _wait_ ,” he says, “to come back after you idiots figure yourselves out.”

Kurt frowns. “What--”

“Oh, don’t worry, Kurt,” Braxton says, waves a hand. “You’ll know what I’m talking about eventually. I hope.” He takes Kurt’s hand again, presses a kiss to the back of it, grinning at him. “Now I must bid you adieu, Kurt Hummel: the man who does not sleep with boys who wear popped collars.”

Kurt flushes to his toes but Braxton’s already strolling away, still laughing.

 


	9. don't want to break your heart

Kurt’s waiting for Rachel in one of the NYADA hallways a few days later, thinking about Braxton and Sebastian, who’s been subdued since his visit.

“Nice hat,” says a voice behind Kurt and Kurt turns to see a cute blond grinning at him.

Kurt smiles back, hesitant because he’s still not used to compliments from strangers. The boy holds out a hand and Kurt takes it for a firm shake.

“Adam Crawford,” the boy says. “NYADA student and leader of the Adam’s Apples.” His eyes crinkle at the corners in a distracting way when he smiles. “I would know if we’d gotten such a gorgeous student this year, so I’m guessing you must not attend.”

Kurt flushes. “No,” he says. “No, my roommate is a freshman here. I’m waiting for her to be done with her afternoon class.”

“Ah,” Adam says. “That explains it all then. Do you sing?” Adam pauses, then adds with a smile. “And do you have a name?”

“Oh!” Kurt says, even more flustered. “Kurt, Kurt Hummel. And I do sing.”

“NYADA not cut it for you?” Adam asks, and it’s his genuine curiosity that lets Kurt answer:

“No, I applied.”

Adam winces. “Got the cut then, eh? Too bad.” He smiles again in that distracting eye-crinkling way. “I’m sure you’re fantastic, no matter what NYADA’s decision was.”

Kurt smiles back at him. “Thank you for saying so,” he says, and then adds, teasing, “But I bet you say that to all the boys you’ve never heard sing before.”

Adam laughs. “It is such a line, isn’t it?” he agrees. “But it doesn’t mean it’s not true!” Adam considers Kurt. “Do you want to prove me right?” he asks suddenly. “My choir is practicing right now and we wouldn’t mind taking a break to have a show.”

Kurt’s throat dries. “I’m--” he starts, uncertainly looking back at the door to Rachel’s classroom.

Adam reads his hesitation clearly. “It’s just a small group of friends,” he assures Kurt. “No pressure at all, I promise. And we’ll have you back to your roommate before you know it.” He smiles again. “Come on, Kurt. Don’t you want to put my money where my mouth is?”

Kurt’s still hesitant but. Well, it’s been a while since he’s sung for an audience and he thinks he’d like to prove to Adam just how much talent he has. (It doesn’t hurt, of course, that Adam has biceps to spare and a wide, easy smile.)

“Alright,” he says and Adam grins at him, takes his hand to pull him down the hall.

“This way,” he says. “There’s a shortcut.”

For a moment, Kurt has an overwhelming feeling of deja vu--so much so that when Adam pulls open a door for them to slip inside, he half expects to see the Warblers gathered inside. Instead, there’s a group of the weirdest people Kurt’s seen at NYADA--dyed hair, piercings, and tattoos abound. Kurt immediately recognizes them: here are the underdogs of the greatest music school in the country, the NYADA equivalent of the New Directions. Kurt likes them immediately.

“Bringing us eye candy, Adam?” calls out one of the boys, looking at Kurt with interest. “I’ve never seen him around before.”

Adam laughs. “Everyone meet Kurt Hummel. His friend attends though he doesn’t--and I challenged him to show us how talented he is.”

There are good-natured groans abound. “Adam loves talent,” one of the other boys says, presumably to Kurt. “He has a talent kink.”

“Oi!” Adam protests. “I’ll have you know I invited Kurt under pure motives!” He smiles at Kurt, gently teasing. “Isn’t that right, Kurt?”

Kurt smiles back at him. “Better prepare yourself,” he says. “I wouldn’t want you to get over-excited at how much _talent_ I have.”

Adam holds his hands up. “Dazzle me, Kurt Hummel,” he says, takes a seat in the empty room, gesturing to his choir. “They’ll back you up.”

Kurt grins, holds a short conference with the Adam’s Apples who, despite their varied and eclectic appearance, have a thorough knowledge of the song Kurt wants to do. As they settle into a loose formation, he’s grateful that he decided on tight pants today that have a bit of give--he’s going to need to move, and it would be embarrassing if he ended up with a ripped seam.

The backing noise begins and Kurt experiences another sudden, intense moment of deja vu--the last time he sang lead for an acoustic show choir was in Dalton with the Warblers, Blaine at his side. He shakes it off soon enough to strut up to the front, hips swinging, and sing:

_“What’s the time? Well it’s gotta be close to midnight, My body’s talking to me, it says, ‘time for danger.’”_

Adam’s laughing, eyes crinkled with delight, and Kurt grins as he struts around the room, Adam’s Apples following him, providing harmony. It’s been awhile since Kurt’s done this--sing with a group of other people instead of just Rachel or by himself--and it takes a moment to fall into it, to get used to the interplay. He does his best--he hangs over a tall boy with dark hair, shimmies with another boy, shaking his hips as sensually as he’s able.

 _“I’ve had a knack from way back, of breaking the rules once I learn the game,”_ Kurt sings, turning back to Adam.

He experiences a bad moment of shock, his voice faltering, when he sees Sebastian standing there as well, arms crossed, eyebrow cocked.

 _The fuck?_ Kurt thinks, caught completely off-guard. Sebastian’s never been at NYADA before and Kurt would almost think he’s some sort of intense product of Kurt’s imagination if Adam didn’t lean in and whisper something that made Sebastian grin a little. _What is he doing here?_ Kurt thinks, but then he remembers he’s in the middle of a performance. He throws himself back into it and if he’s a little bit more focused it’s not because he wants to impress Sebastian: it’s because he wants to knock the socks off of the hot British boy who’d invited him here to begin with. _Don’t think about Sebastian,_ Kurt tells himself firmly and then, partly to impress and partly because it’s something Mimi would do, he stretches out into a split as he sings, _“You wanna play? Let’s run away.”_ Adam wolf-whistles and Kurt grins as he comes back up in a trick he learned from Santana when he was with the Cheerios.

 _“Let’s go, out tonight!”_ Kurt sings, casually throwing his leg up to his chest, showing off his flexibility. _“Out tonight!”_

Adam begins clapping as soon as they’ve finished with Sebastian joining in a few minutes later. Kurt grins, thanks the rest of the Apples, and jogs over to them.

“What’re you doing here, Sebastian?” he asks as soon as he’s close.

Sebastian shrugs. “Rachel texted me,” he says. “She said something about meeting you guys here for dinner tonight.”

Kurt relaxes a little at the explanation, turns to Adam. “What’d you think?” he asks. “Did I live up to your expectations?”

“You were marvelous!” Adam exclaims. “Truly magnificent, I can’t believe you didn’t get into NYADA.”

Kurt doesn’t look at Sebastian--he knows exactly what Sebastian thinks of his talent. “Thank you,” he says to Adam. “Your group is great, by the way. I didn’t think NYADA even did show choir.”

Adam makes a face. “They don’t, really,” he says. “We’re basically the lowest of the low here, socially, but ah--sweet show tunes! How can anyone resist them?” He grins at Kurt. “You’re welcome at practice whenever you like, Kurt. It’ll help pass the time while you’re waiting for your roommate, yeah?”

“I’d love that,” Kurt says--genuine because he does love singing with other people and he’s missed it since high school.

“Rachel’s class is probably being let out,” Sebastian cuts in. Kurt glances at him with surprise--there’s an edge to his voice that Kurt doesn’t recognize. “We’d better go.”

“Ah, right,” Adam says. “Well it was lovely to meet you both. I’ll see you soon, Kurt?” he asks, grinning again.

Kurt smiles back, a little heady that Sebastian is right there and yet Kurt is getting all the attention. “Absolutely,” he says.

Once they leave, Kurt looks over at Sebastian, who has a tense, almost angry look. “How’d you find me, by the way?” he asks. “Since I wasn’t waiting at Rachel’s classroom?”

“Someone left the door open,” Sebastian says. “I heard your voice down the hall.” He smirks, relaxes a little. “Nice song choice, by the way.”

Kurt makes a face at him. “I’ll have you know there’s not one in ten people who can sing that song as well as I can.”

Sebastian holds up his hands, still smirking. “I have no doubt, darling.” He hesitates, adds, “That British twink seemed to like you anyway.”

Kurt flushes. “He was just being nice,” he mutters.

Sebastian rolls his eyes. “He was into you, Kurt,” he says, sounding almost put-out about it.

Kurt eyes him. “Did you hit on him?” he asks suspiciously. Sebastian’s pout deepens and Kurt laughs. “What, so you’re just put-out that someone prefers me to you?” he teases. “Can’t handle such a hit to your pride?”

Sebastian frowns at him. “Of course not,” he says. “You may be a little bitch, but you’re not entirely unpleasant to look at.”

Kurt rolls his eyes, ignores the warm feeling in the pit of his stomach. “Thanks for that stunning compliment,” he says. “I’ll treasure it forever.”

“Kurt,” Sebastian says and he sounds so serious that Kurt focuses on him. “I mean it--a guy like Adam would be lucky to have you.” Sebastian looks uncertain. “I mean, I know I was never your biggest admirer in high school, but I was being an asshole back then because I wanted Blaine.” Kurt flinches but Sebastian hurries on to add, “You’re really quite . . . good-looking, I guess. For guys who are into that.”

Kurt’s staring now, but he can’t stop himself--to hear that from Sebastian, who’s only ever told Kurt how gay-faced he is . . . .

 _Shit,_ Kurt thinks. _Shit I think I may like him._ Because his stomach is a riot of butterflies and he can’t stop remembering how good Sebastian looks when he smiles or the way it had felt to have Sebastian focus on him when he performed. _Shit,_ Kurt thinks again with a distant horror. _I’m so fucking screwed._

-

Kurt takes a deep breath, then pulls out one of Tina's mix tapes. Tina, bless her heart, burned one for him right before he left for New York and slipped it into his bag without telling him—all he found was a single CD with a giant smiley face drawn on it in permanent marker, full of Broadway numbers and divas, songs that make Kurt smile. A few weeks after his break up with Blaine, he received a package from Tina: two CDs, one marked with a giant sad face and one marked with an angry face. Attached to them was a post-it note that said: _I'm sorry._

Tina has the most eclectic taste in music of anyone Kurt knows, and he’d enjoyed listening to the CDs on repeat, astounded to find so many new songs that he likes. Until now, he’d almost always listed to the sad face CD, but now, now --

Kurt pulls out the angry face CD and slips it in. As the first track starts, he leans his head back and closes his eyes, focusing on the thundering pattern of his heartbeat. He likes Sebastian. He likes _Sebastian_ , how could he do this to himself--

It will never work out, Kurt knows that.

But he’s surprised how much he wants it to, how much he wishes that he or Sebastian were just different enough to actually work together as a couple. But they’re not, that’s the problem, Sebastian is Sebastian and Kurt, well--

Kurt sighs, whispers along with the lyrics: _"And I'm a little bit too strange, for someone like you."_

Sebastian has as good as said, on multiple occasions, how little he wants Kurt, at least physically. Sebastian admitted Kurt is good-looking, but Kurt can’t forget the addendum: _for guys who are into that_. Sebastian’s not. Kurt knows they’re friends now, in the same way that he knows Sebastian would rather be with everyone else on the planet than Kurt. Kurt couldn’t handle the look of disgust he’s sure Sebastian will give him if Kurt confesses his feelings, is definitely ill-equipped to deal with the fall-out of their friendship afterwards.

And besides, what if they did get together? Kurt knows Sebastian hates relationships, has never been in a serious one as far as Kurt’s heard. And Kurt’s track record isn’t exactly spotless either.

 _“I don’t have the best of luck, with making these these things last,”_ Kurt whispers along with the next lyric, wonders if there will ever be a time that music doesn’t express his thoughts and emotions in a perfect way.

Kurt’s used to loving more. It’s what he’s always done: he’s always the one who loves too much, who loves first. Maybe someday a beautiful boy will pine over him, pursue him, but until then--Kurt will have to deal. Because he’s not willing to lose Sebastian’s friendship and trust, and he knows that if ignores these feelings they’ll probably go away. This is probably just a fleeting crush.

(He pointedly ignores the voice in the back of his head insisting that his crush on Blaine had never faded, even in the face of Blaine’s obvious disinterest.)

He sighs as the song comes to a jagged end and smooths into an instrumental. Tina, out everyone he knows, has the most eclectic musical taste--indie pop to techno to rock ballads. He wonders how she’s doing, if the rest of the Glee club is alright. He realizes, with a start, that they must have new members. Does anyone talk about them, the ones who left? The new kids are probably all friends with Blaine, he thinks. If they know about Blaine and Kurt’s break-up, they must side with him. It’s depressing to think about a bunch of kids he doesn’t even know judging his relationship with Blaine, the way it all fell apart.

He leans back, listens to the swoop of a violin, the soft, smattering piano and lets himself drift asleep, where his anxieties can’t bother him.

-

Kurt frantically searches for his ringing phone, lost among his piles of laundry. It’s Saturday and he’s been trying to distract himself from thoughts about Sebastian by organizing his closet and doing chores. The stupid thing is shoved between his piles of jeans and he hurriedly answers it when he sees that it’s Isabelle.

“Kurt!” she cries. “I was afraid you were busy!”

Kurt eyes his piles of laundry. So far he’s managed to organize them into piles of color--next he plans to work on designer. “Not exactly,” he says. “What can I help you with, Isabelle?”

“I just wanted to make sure you remembered to come to the party tomorrow night,” Isabelle says. When Kurt doesn’t say anything she adds, a touch impatient, “The Christmas party, remember? All of our financers will be there so I want every employee to attend.”

Kurt’s mind is blank: nobody’s said anything to him about a party, though he’d wondered if they’d have one. “Party?” he repeats, confused. “I never--”

Isabelle sighs. “The notice has been up on the bulletin board for a week, Kurt. Haven’t you seen it?”

“I haven’t looked,” Kurt confesses. He vaguely remembers a brightly colored sheet of paper on the bulletin board, but the thing is usually covered with band ads and requests for shift changes--Kurt hasn’t really looked at it in weeks. “When is it again?”

“Tomorrow night,” Isabelle says, tells him the address. “It’s seven o’clock sharp, but feel free to come later.”

“Is it black tie?” Kurt asks, wonders where he can get a suit on short notice. He supposes he could probably find something in his closet that comes close, but all of his formal wear is at home, safe in air-tight bags.

“No, no, it’s casual,” Isabelle assures him. “Just dress to your usual standards and you’ll be fine. Oh, and feel free to bring a date!”

Kurt can practically hear her wink but before he can say anything, she hangs up on him. Kurt sighs, sets his phone aside. There’s only one person he’d think of asking and he doubts Sebastian would do more than laugh himself silly at being called Kurt’s date.

 


	10. wanna give your heart a break

The party is held in a fancy hotel ballroom in the middle of downtown: it takes Kurt longer than he expects to find it after the cab drops him off though Isabelle emailed him directions last night. As he enters, he smoothes over his hair, pats down his clothes to make sure they’re unwrinkled.

Inside, the entire building is white, antique. Kurt stares, a little awed: he’s never been in such a fancy place. Last time he stayed at a hotel in New York is was with the New Directions for Nationals and they were holed up in a national chain. Kurt pats down his hair again, worries that he didn’t dress up enough, whatever Isabelle said.

Isabelle’s instructions had said that the party would be held in the Gold Room on the fifth floor. Kurt’s just about to go up when Sebastian comes in through the door, breathing hard. He’s wearing a dress shirt and formal pants and looks miles better than he ever has outside of a Dalton uniform. Kurt eyes him, swallows hard.

“You just getting here too?” Sebastian asks as he jogs up to Kurt’s side. His shirt sleeves are rolled up at the elbow and he’s stupidly, unfairly good-looking.

“Yes,” Kurt says, a little breathless. “I had a little trouble finding the place.”

“Not quite a New York City native yet, huh?” Sebastian asks, grinning. Kurt rolls his eyes, relaxes a little at the familiar banter.

“Come on,” he says instead of retorting. “We’d better get up before Isabelle skins us both for being so late.”

-

"Kurt!" Isabelle cries as they enter to music and loud chatter. There are a bunch of suits in the room, but Isabelle has a feather boa wrapped around her shoulders and the look of someone who’s drunk too much. Christmas decorations are strung up and there’s a huge tree tucked into the corner, drooping with ornaments. "And Sebastian!" She winks at them and Kurt feels a flush crawl up the back of his neck. "I didn't expect you two to come together!"

"We didn't—"

"We're not—"

Sebastian and Kurt exchange a look and laugh together. "We just got here at the same time," Kurt explains to Isabelle.

Isabelle winks again and Kurt's flush deepens, but he manages to raise an unimpressed eyebrow when Isabelle giggles at him.

"Come in, come in," she says, shooing them inside where there are throngs of people gathered, talking to each other loudly. "The party's just getting started." She shoots a sly look at Kurt that should warn him of what's coming, but he still manages to be surprised when she latches onto his arm and says, "You know, you should sing for us, Kurt! Get us in the partying mood!"

Kurt blinks down at her. "Sing?" he asks, nonplussed. He knows this isn’t a formal affair, but . . . .

"Well, you want to go to NYADA, don't you?" Isabelle says. "And you were a finalist last year, so you must be amazing! Come on!" She looks around, leans forward to whisper, “Plus we’re still trying to get the sound system figured out in here and we did promise our guests entertainment.”

Kurt glances at Sebastian, who looks amused. "Come on, Kurt," he says when he notices that Kurt's looking. "Give us a _show_."

Kurt flushes, bites his lip. He's usually never one to deny the spotlight, but he feels awkward now, surrounded by people he doesn't know and—well, Sebastian standing there, eyes gleaming with humor. He knows that Sebastian thinks he's . . . girly, that he doesn't have the stage presence to rival Blaine or Rachel or even Sebastian himself. You do have that, he reminds himself, spine straightening. And there's no better time to prove that to Sebastian—and himself—than now.

"Sure," he says, and gets the gratification of seeing Sebastian's eyes widen in surprise. "I know just the song." He should probably sing some sort of carol, he knows, but Kurt’s never been very big on Christmas--and besides, this is a party for a _fashion_ magazine. His song choice will be perfect.

Isabelle claps her hands together. "Someone get me a microphone!" she tells one of the nearby employees, who rushes off to fulfill Isabelle's command.

"You're really doing this?" Sebastian murmurs into Kurt's ear as Isabelle accepts the microphone from her harried employee. Isabelle ushers them to an open place in the room, where there’s a small dance floor and stage. "I didn't think you had the guts, Hummel."

Kurt levels Sebastian a look over his shoulder, and takes the mic from Isabelle. It's smooth and warm in his hand, and confidence returns to him in such a sudden rush that he feels dizzy. "There's a lot you don't know about me, Sebastian," he says, then steps forward on to the stage.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he says, and the crowd's attention drifts towards him. “Isabelle has asked that me to perform some live music until we figure out some problems with our sound system.”

There’s a round of indifferent claps and Kurt’s mouth firms: he vows that he’ll have them eating out his hand by the end of this number, no matter what. He glances at Sebastian for a moment before he starts and finds his eyes fixed on Kurt. Something in his stomach settles at that, and he faces the crowd with confidence.

 _"In life,"_ he sings, _"one has to face a huge assortment of nauseating fads and good advice."_

It's strange singing it acapella, without background dancers, but Kurt has sung this often enough in his bedroom that he could do it in his sleep. As the song picks up, he moves forward in the crowd and goes with it, flirting with strange men by sashaying into their personal space, urging women to shimmy with him. The crowd starts to get into it with him--people are laughing, dancing a little.

 _"Oh now I believe in looking like my time on earth is cooking,"_ he sings and as he twirls he catches sight of Sebastian, watching him with a strange fond look on his face. Kurt's so flustered that he nearly misses his next line, but when he turns again it's with warmth building in his chest. _"Whether polka-dotted, striped, or even checked."_ Some of the employees are laughing, he can see, and even a few of them are singing along, mouthing the words with him. Kurt grins and twirls as he sings, _"Every fiber of my being is displayed to quite remarkable effect,"_ showing off his current fabulous outfit: slim, tight fitting pants, a dark blue dress shirt and grey-black waistcoat. He gets whistles in return and he laughs.

 _“I would rather wear a barrel, then conservative apparel,”_ Kurt sings and behind him, Isabelle comes up and starts singing background oohs, getting some of the nearby girls to join her. As Kurt twirls, they follow him, and they even manage to fall into a sort of routine—Kurt feels inexplicably like he's part of an Unholy Trinity.

 _"For dress has always been, my strongest suit!"_ He laughs as he finishes and everyone claps. He bows, then hands the microphone back to Isabelle, who's grinning at him.

"Kurt Hummel, everyone!" she says and the applause rises in volume. "One day you'll be seeing him on the big stage!"

Kurt blushes and laughs when he hears wolf-whistles before he  makes his way back to Sebastian amidst smiles and praise. Sebastian watches him with considering eyes and Kurt wonders with a thread of nervousness twisting in his stomach, what exactly Sebastian thought.

"That was excellent," Sebastian says as Kurt approaches. Kurt stops, does a double take.

"A compliment?" he asks, only half-disbelieving. "From the great Sebastian Smythe? I thought the world didn't end until the 21st?"

Sebastian laughs, but the intent look doesn't fade from his eyes. "I mean it, Kurt." He pauses. "You never got any solos from New Directions . . ."

"Or the Warblers," Kurt reminds him. "The only time they gave me anything was when Blaine told them to." He shrugs. He remembers being so bitter over that, but it's hard to be now that he's pursuing his dreams, living his life in the best city in the world and loving every second of it. "I was too fabulous for them," he says, smiling a little.

Sebastian doesn't smile. "They should have given you something," he says, and the firmness in his voice makes something warm in Kurt's chest.

"Thanks," he says, meaning it.

A tap on his arm distracts him from Sebastian’s blooming smile. “Kurt,” Isabelle says, with the barest trace of apology in her face. “Some people want to meet you.” She turns to Sebastian, and Kurt’s rarely seen her face so solemn. “Sebastian, your parents are here.”

Sebastian pales. Kurt reaches out without thinking, tucking his hand into the curve of Sebastian’s elbow. “Sebastian?” he asks, uncertain.

Sebastian shakes his head and his color evens out a little. “Sorry,” he says. To Isabelle, he adds, “Where is they?”

“Ducked into the restroom,” Isabelle says, clear worry on her face. “Look, I can tell them you decided not to come and you can leave--”

“No,” Sebastian says. His eyes dart back to Kurt for a brief moment. “No, I should probably talk to them. I’m just going to . . . go get some air. I’ll be back in a minute.”

“Do you want me to stay with you?” Kurt asks, still worried because Sebastian’s color is quickly returning back to normal but he can’t quite forget the look of Sebastian’s pale face and wide, anxious eyes.

Sebastian smiles at him a semblance of normalcy. “Don’t worry about me, darling,” he says.  
“I’ll be fine. Go schmooze to your heart’s content.”

He strides away, gets swallowed up in the crowd. Kurt turns to Isabelle, who watches him go with her lip caught between her teeth. When she notices Kurt’s stare, she sighs.

“I shouldn’t be the one to tell you,” she says. “It’s Sebastian’s story. But I will say this - don’t go near his father by yourself, okay?”

“Is this about Braxton?” Kurt asks, nonplussed. He knows why Braxton wouldn’t want to see his father, but he’s not quite sure what Sebastian’s issue is with his parents.

Isabelle winces. “A little,” she admits. “But, really, it’s for Sebastian to tell you, not me.”

“I need to talk to him,” Kurt says, frowning. “Where did he go, did you see?”

“Kurt--” Isabelle starts, but Kurt is already pushing his way through the crowd, trying to follow Sebastian’s path.

He ends up outside, on one of the buildings many terraces. He almost gives up when he sees Sebastian folded on a bench, head in his hands. Kurt hesitates a moment before going over to him. Sebastian looks up as he approaches, gives him a wan smile.

“Needed a moment to yourself, sweetheart?”

“You look like hell,” Kurt says, concerned. He sits down next to Sebastian.

Sebastian sighs, puts his face back in his hands.

“This is going to be such a shit night” Sebastian mutters against the skin of his palms, muffled enough that Kurt almost doesn’t hear him.

Kurt hesitates, then reaches out to put a hand on Sebastian’s back. Through his dress shirt, his back is warm.

“Your dad?” he asks.

Kurt feels Sebastian sigh. “Talking to him is exhausting,” Sebastian says. “I never know what to say to make him understand me.”

Kurt bites his lip, flexes his hand against Sebastian’s back, wrinkling the fine fabric slightly. Kurt smoothes it away, feels Sebastian shiver.

“Do you want to talk to me about it?”

Sebastian looks up, meets Kurt’s eyes. Kurt doesn’t remove his hand from Sebastian’s back.

“You know about Braxton, don’t you?” Sebastian asks. “He said he talked to you before he left.” Kurt nods and Sebastian sighs again. “It’s something like that except . . . well, I’m the last son. So if my father disowns me . . . .”

“He doesn’t have someone to give all his fortune to,” Kurt finishes, nose wrinkling. “I feel like we stepped into a Jane Austen novel.”

Sebastian snorts. “I’m not going to lie, it’s a lot like that. My father wanted me to follow him into the family business, but I’m not interested in becoming a lawyer.”

Kurt raises an eyebrow. “I would’ve thought being a lawyer would be right up your alley,” he admits. “Suits, power, sex--what’s not to love about that?”

Sebastian rolls his eyes. “You’ve been watching too much T.V.,” he says. “Smythe & Clarington isn’t much like that. My dad’s partner,” he elaborates. “The new head of the Warblers is his son . . . Hunter Clarington, I think that’s his name.” Kurt nods, a little surprised. “Even if it was, it’s not for me or for Brax. Brax just wants to travel and paint and I--” Sebastian sighs. “I,” he says again, more firmly, “want to make music.”

Kurt frowns. “Sing, you mean?” he asks. “Like, make a record?”

Sebastian waves a hand. “If I can get that,” he says. “But I’d like to produce more than anything.” His face brightens. “Producers are what make really good music great, you know? Their decisions on the final cut, on how it sounds, that’s what can make a hit.” He smirks a little. “Plus, their life really is power, suits, and sex.”

Kurt stares at him, surprised by his animation. “I didn’t know you wanted to do that,” he says, more to himself than Sebastian.

Sebastian cocks an eyebrow. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, sweetheart,” he says and Kurt snorts.

“Touche,” he says. “So your dad doesn’t approve.”

Sebastian’s face sours. “He needs an heir,” he says. “When Brax left, father disowned him for it--I’m really the only one left for the Smythe dynasty to fall on. When he heard that I wanted to do something else . . . .” Sebastian sighs. “Well, you can imagine the row we had about it.”

Something strikes Kurt. “Is that why you’re here?” he asks. “Why you’re working for Isabelle?”

Sebastian smiles, a touch bitter. “Got it in one, tiger,” he says. “My father told me that he’d send me here for a year to show me what it’s like to work in the “art world.” He seemed to think that it would be enough to convince me to change my future to something a little more suited to his world view.” Sebastian chuckles. “I guess he underestimated how stubborn I am.”

“He’s obviously never seen you pursue someone,” Kurt chimes in. “Then he’d know you’re a persistent person.” Sebastian grins at him, a little more genuine this time. “So what happens at the end of the year?”

Sebastian shrugs. “I go to daddy dearest and tell him I still don’t want to run the company. My guess is that he’ll cut me off like he did to Brax - we have a couple of cousins that he could shape into being the family heir, though I don’t they’ll come any more easily than Brax or me.”

Kurt gapes at him. “You’re okay with that?” he asks, incredulous. “Being cut off from your family? And your money?”

Sebastian shoots him a wry look. “I realize the irony of me saying this, but money isn’t everything, Kurt.”

Kurt rolls his eyes. “You’re right,” he says. “I may drop dead of shock that _you_ said that. But seriously, won’t it be hard for you to make it on your own without any support?” Kurt can’t imagine not having his dad to fall back on when times get rough.

Sebastian shrugs. “I have Isabelle and Brax,” he says. “Neither of them are really hard-off and they’re willing to help me out. But I suppose I’ll find a job and work myself to the bone to pay my bills until I make it big--just like every other average Joe.” He grins at Kurt. “Sebastian Smythe, working class citizen. Has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?”

Kurt makes a face. “I can’t imagine you actually working,” he admits. “Probably because I’ve never seen you do it with my own eyes. All you do at the office is sleep and yell at Jerry.”

“Jerry deserves it, the piece of shit,” Sebastian says, adamant even though Kurt knows that he, like the rest of the office, has become fond of Jerry’s endearingly bad print jobs. “And I do work! Isabelle says I’m a pleasure to have working for her!”

Kurt snorts before he can stop himself. “Isabelle says that about everyone,” he says. “She says that about Irene, and you know what she’s like.” Irene, one of the other interns, gets “lost” on her way to the bathroom at least three times a day and ends up missing for hours at a time. Kurt’s pretty sure that she goes out shopping because she usually comes back in a different outfit than she arrived in.

Sebastian pulls an outraged face. “Are you saying my own aunt was lying to me?” he asks. “I can’t believe you!”

Kurt grins. “I’m just saying that if you asked me, I’d say you’re lazy and sometimes a little petulant.”

Sebastian pouts. “I am _not_ petulant,” he says. “I’m endearingly snotty, there’s a difference.”

They glance at each other and start to laugh at the same time: when Kurt can catch his breath, he says, “We should head back inside.”

Sebastian groans. “Do we have to?” he asks. “I’d rather stay out here with you.”

Kurt knows that when it comes to a choice between him and Sebastian’s father Sebastian will choose him without contest--hell Sebastian would probably choose a pig without contest--but he can’t stop the warmth blossoming in his chest.

“Too bad,” Kurt says, standing. “Time to face the music.” He offers Sebastian a hand. “No getting out of it, I’m afraid.”

Sebastian sighs, lets himself be pulled to his feet. Instead of pulling away afterward, he grips Kurt’s hand tight. His fingers are long, warm against Kurt’s. “I’m glad you’re here, Kurt,” he mutters and when Kurt glances at him in shock, he can see a flush curling around Sebastian’s ear. He smiles, fond, and squeezes Sebastian’s hand.

 


	11. i know you're scared it's wrong

Inside there’s still a crush of people, but they manage to stop Isabelle, who waves them over to where she’s standing with a couple that Kurt can only assume are Sebastian’s parents.

Sebastian’s father is an imposing man of around fifty, with dark gray streaks in his brown hair. Both Sebastian and Braxton don’t look much like him, though they obviously inherited his coloring - no, it’s apparent that the Smythe brothers got everything else from their fine-boned, gorgeous mother, whose face crinkles up in that distinctive Smythe way as she smiles. They’re an attractive couple, the Smythe parents, and Kurt can’t help but be a little intimidated by their combined beauty, their aura of importance.

“Calm down,” Sebastian murmurs into his ear. “They’re not all as impressive as that.” He sounds anxious and his face, when Kurt glances back, is pale.

“They _look_ very impressive,” Kurt points out, tries to keep his voice light so that Sebastian will relax. “Your mother has excellent taste, that vintage Dior looks divine on her.” It does, even if her sneer doesn’t suit her as well.

Sebastian makes a face, but his face regains some color. “Her taste in fashion is probably the only good taste she has left,” Sebastian mutters. He sighs, put upon. “Come on, better introduce you quick and get it over with.” He takes Kurt’s arm, starts to lead him across the room, hesitates. “Kurt,” he says. “Don’t let anything they say get to you.”

Kurt stares up at Sebastian as they continue across the room. “What--?” he asks, uncertain why everyone seems to think that Sebastian’s parents will be horrible to him, but they’re already at the Smythe parents’ side, and they’re turning to meet Kurt and Sebastian. Isabelle gives them a look and then slips away into the crowd.

Sebastian’s father doesn’t look at Sebastian at first--his attention is all on Kurt, sweeping over him from head to toe. And Kurt hadn’t exactly been expecting a warm reaction, but the look Sebastian’s father wears after he’s finished examining Kurt says that he’s seen all Kurt has to offer and Kurt has come up wanting. Kurt starts to flush, looks over at Sebastian’s mother--who’s looking at him much as a shark might look at a fish it could eat but doesn’t want to for fear of stomachache.

Kurt shrinks back for a moment, feeling very small. Then he remembers his dad, his friends, Sebastian, Isabelle--even Blaine, who’ve all told him that he’s a good person, a fabulous person. He’s Kurt motherfucking Hummel, and these people might be important and rich and Sebastian’s parents, but they are not better than him, and they will not make him feel small. Kurt won’t allow it.

He stares down Sebastian’s mother, who turns her head with a delicate huff after a minute, then sweeps his gaze to Sebastian’s father--who has actually already turned to regard Sebastian.

“It’s good to see you looking so well, son,” Sebastian’s father says. “New York suits you as much as it suits your aunt.”

Sebastian’s mouth thins. “You look good as well, father,” he says without sincerity. His face relaxes a little as he turns to Kurt, gestures him forward. “May I introduce Kurt Hummel? He works with me at Aunt Isabelle’s company as an intern.”

Neither of Sebastian’s parents deign to offer a hand or a hello. Kurt grits his teeth. “Pleasure,” he spits out as politely as he can, “I’m sure.”

He sees Sebastian grin a little out of the corner of his eye and relaxes, temper fading.

“Lovely,” Mr. Smythe says, clearly not meaning it. He gives Kurt another long once-over and Kurt recognizes his look suddenly: it’s a Lima look, the one that says: oh it’s one of _them_. Kurt’s suddenly icy all over.

“You’ve made some interesting friends here, Sebastian,” Sebastian’s father says. “Tell me, Kurt, do you attend college nearby?”

Kurt grits his teeth, already knows the reaction to his answer. “No,” he says. “I live nearby with an old friend from high school who’s attending the New York Academy of Dramatic Arts.”

Sebastian’s father wrinkles his nose. “Ah,” he says. “Yes, I’ve met Ms. Tibbideaux several times. She’s a forceful woman--very set in her opinions.” His eyebrow raises. “Do you have any plans to attend school soon, Mr. Hummel?”

Kurt’s not sure how, but _Mr. Hummel_ is starting to sound like an insult. “I’m not quite sure, Mr. Smythe,” Kurt says and injects as much polite disdain as he can into the title.

Sebastian’s father purses his lips. “You should pursue higher education, son,” he says. “After all, it’s not like there’s a future for you in this nonsense.” He waves a hand around them. “Or with singing showtunes.”

Kurt’s spine straightens--slow and sure, his cold fury unfurls. “Excuse me, Mr. Smythe,” he snaps and he’s satisfied to see Sebastian’s father’s attention focus on him. “But I happen to think there’s much satisfaction and success to gain from a career in fine arts as there is in any other job.”

Mr. Smythe’s eyes narrow. “Oh?” he asks, the dangerous edge to his voice warning Kurt. “Are you planning to go into this field then, Mr. Hummel?” He raises an eyebrow. “What exactly _are_ your plans for the future?”

Kurt falters because this is a question he’s asked himself many times over the past weeks and has yet to find an answer to. “I like working here,” he says, and he knows and curses that it sounds weak.

Mr. Smythe senses victory and smiles a wide, shark grin. “Let me give you a hard truth, Mr. Hummel, in the interest of helping you: there is no future in a job such as this.” He gestures again to the room at large. “What exactly are any of you doing to benefit society, hm? You all flutter around, showing off your ridiculous outfits like it all means something more--trust me, Mr. Hummel, when I say it doesn’t. Fashion is a cheap, consumer art for the bored and unimaginative and the sooner people realize that the better.” He eyes Kurt, snorts. “I realize that your kind may not be able to access the higher circles of society, though, so maybe you’re content to be stuck here.”

“Father!” Sebastian snaps.

Kurt’s throat is tight, clogged. He sees out of the corner of his eye that Isabelle is pale, looks just as shocked Kurt feels. “I see,” he says, knows his voice is thick. “Thank you for sharing your wisdom with me, Mr. Smythe.” He wants to say more, but he isn’t quite sure where to find the words.

There’s a touch at his elbow and Kurt turns to see Rachel and Brody there, both regarding him concern.

“Kurt,” Rachel says, eyes darting between the Smythes and him. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

Kurt can’t describe his overwhelming relief. “Yes, of course,” he says. He turns back to the Smythes. “If you’ll excuse me,” he says and lets Rachel tug him away.

“What the hell?” she hisses into his ear as she tugs him across the room, to one of the terrance doors and outside. Brody follows close on their heels. “Who were they?” Rachel demands once they’re out in the cold night air, alone.

“Sebastian’s parents,” Kurt says. His throat is still tight and he’s biting back on tears. “Who obviously have very strong opinions on what constitutes as a _real job_.”

“We only got the tail end of it,” Brody says, looking concerned. “Are you okay?”

Kurt takes a deep breath. “I’m fine,” he assures them. “It’s nothing I haven’t heard before, right? Everyone thinks that fashion and music will lead me nowhere. I’ll just have to prove them wrong, that’s all.” Kurt laughs, a touch bitter and sings with some irony, _“I feel better when beguiling, find that fashion keeps me smiling, but in my heart I know it’s rather sad.”_

Rachel sighs. “Kurt,” she says and then, because she is Rachel Berry, sings back, _“That a life of great potential is dismissed as inconsequential.”_

Kurt really loves Rachel sometimes, because it’s only when he’s with her that things like this happen. He smiles a little as he sings, _“And only ever seen as being cute. So I’ll flutter to deceive--”_

 _“Oh no, you must believe,”_ Rachel cuts in, taking his hand, eyes soft and sincere. _“One day you’re bound to find . . .”_

 _“A stronger suit,”_ they finish together and then hug, tightly.

“Does this always happen with you two?” Brody asked, bemused, as they pull apart. Rachel and Kurt laugh.

“Singing is how we deal with pain,” Kurt asserts. He takes a deep breath. “I can’t let that man get to me,” he tells Rachel. “He doesn’t know me and he doesn’t know anything about following your dreams, obviously, or he wouldn’t shit all over mine.”

“Actors probably make ten times his salary,” Rachel says, scornful.

Kurt winces. “Well, he’s a lawyer, so maybe not. But definitely a good point.” He sighs. “Sebastian was right, he really is impossible to talk to. I’d hoped that he was over-exaggerating or something because they were fighting and that I could help them make up, you know? But I think that’s impossible.”

Rachel’s about to reply when the door opens and Sebastian slips out. He goes immediately to Kurt, ignoring both Rachel and Brody.

“Are you okay?” he asks. “I’m sorry, I would never have brought you with me if I’d known he was going to--”

“It’s alright,” Kurt cuts in, smiling a little at Sebastian’s wide-eyed panic. “It’s nothing I’ve never heard before and Rachel helped me with the power of song.”

“It heals all wounds,” Rachel puts in, very serious.

“I see,” Sebastian says, mouth quirking. “Rachel, Brody, if I could have a moment alone with Kurt?”

Rachel and Brody both turn on Kurt with identical questioning looks and Kurt wonders if he should tell them that they’re spending too much time together.

“I’ll see you guys inside,” he assures them and they leave, hand in hand.

“I’m really sorry, Kurt,” Sebastian says again, running a hand through his hair. “I tried to rip him a new one after you left but he didn’t hear a word of it, just kept trying to talk to me about the firm.”

“I’m not very surprised,” Kurt admits. “But it’s alright.” He eyes Sebastian. “Do your parents know that you’re gay?” he asks.

“Yes,” Sebastian says, miserable. “But my dad, he . . .” Sebastian sighs. “Look, he’s not a clean-cut homophobe. He’s fine that I’m gay, but that’s only because I’m not obviously gay. He doesn’t like . . . .” He shoots Kurt an uncomfortable look.

“Flamers like me,” Kurt finishes, a tad bitter because this is something that he’s always had to deal with: well I’m fine with you being gay, but could you act like it a little less?

Sebastian winces. “Yes,” he says. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing for your jackass of a father,” Kurt snaps, irritated. Sebastian blinks at him, grins.

“Little bitch,” he says. “Look, we’ll just avoid him for the rest of the night now that we’ve done the necessary pleasantries.”

“Sounds good to me,” Kurt says. “I’d be happy if I never saw that man again, to be honest.”

“Oh, I understand the feeling,” Sebastian says. “Completely.” He holds out a hand for Kurt. “Shall we, darling?”

Kurt, feeling a little more composed, takes it and follows Sebastian inside.

-

The party ends anticlimactically--Sebastian and Kurt manage to avoid the Smythes for the rest of the night, though Kurt imagines that he can feel one or both them looking at him at one point or another.

Kurt’s never been more relieved to go home after a long day, if he’s honest, and he vows that next time Isabelle hosts a party he’s going to make sure that Sebastian’s parents will not be there.

Still, he reflects once he’s back in his bedroom, getting ready for sleep, it could have been worse. At least he’s learned more about Sebastian now--and, more importantly, Sebastian trusts him enough to tell him these things about himself. Kurt smiles a little at his reflection--he likes the thought of Sebastian trusting him with secrets. It makes Kurt feel very warm.

There’s a knock on his door. “Kurt?” Rachel says. “I know you’re about to go to sleep but I have a question for you.”

Kurt sighs. “Yes, Rachel?”

A long pause. “Do you like Sebastian?”

Kurt freezes, stares at his wide-eyed form in his mirror. Then he slumps. “Yes,” he admits, because he needs to tell someone.

Rachel sighs. “You never pick the easy choice, do you, Kurt?” she asks and Kurt laughs because it’s really so true.

-

It's the weekend before Kurt and Rachel's anticlimactic Christmas plans that an unexpected knock sounds on their door. Kurt glances over at Rachel, curled up on the couch with a textbook.

"Brody?" he asks, but Rachel shakes her head.

Kurt frowns, moves to the door, pointedly not remembering the last time someone had shown up unexpectedly on their doorstep. When he opens their door, his concern fades away as he's met with five familiar faces.

"Oh my _God_!" he exclaims and Mercedes launches herself at him, laughing.

"Did you think you'd get away without seeing us before the new year?" she asks as she presses him into a close hug. "I don't _think_ so."

Quinn smiles at him over Mercedes' head. "Since you two were so busy, we decided to come visit you instead," she says. Kurt hears footsteps and the excited squeal that means Rachel has come up behind him and seen everyone. Quinn's smile deepens. "If that's alright."

"Of course it's alright!" Rachel exclaims, hurrying forward to hug everyone.

Mercedes lets Kurt go and he shares in several exuberant hugs of his own before they all separate. Rachel and Kurt usher everyone in and, after a stampede of getting shoes and coats and hats off, they all stand in their living room, taking it all in. Kurt realizes, a little amused, that he’s actually nervous about their opinions.

Puck is the first to speak. "So this is the pad, huh?” he says. "Pretty nice, actually. A lot better than my pit on the other side."

“I was expecting something with more cockroaches,” Quinn admits. “My roommate used to live in New York and she has all sorts of horror stories about the places she lived in.”

Kurt smiles, relaxes. "It's easier with a roommate. Rachel's and my parents help out sometimes too." He shrugs. “We kind of need it since both of us don’t really have an income.”

“That’s right,” Mike says, “I heard about internship from Artie. Congratulations, Kurt!”

“It’s not that big a deal,” Kurt demures, though his tone is playfully modest.

Santana hits him on the shoulder, but her smile is playful. "I can't believe you got it so fast!"

Kurt smiles at her and then, partly to see her reactions, says, "Brittany told me you're being considered for head cheerleader.” Santana’s flush is interesting. "That's great, what with you not being there long."

"You talk to Brit?" Santana asks, a curiously strained note in her voice.

Kurt notices everyone in their group exchanging looks and then pointedly floating away to different points in the room, making their own conversation. Kurt remembers what Artie told him about Santana and Brittany’s break-up and is grateful for their unexpected discretion.

Kurt shrugs. "Not often," he admits. "Just texting now and again." He hesitates, wonders if it's his place, then says, "She seems lonely."

Santana's eyes betray nothing. "Not anymore," she says. "She and Sam started dating."

Kurt blinks, taken aback: both Artie and Brittany never told him that . For a moment he wonders if Blaine feels smug, having Kurt's skepticism of "real" bisexuals shot down with such concrete evidence. He forces the thought away.

"I'm sorry," he says, not because he cares really if Brittany is bisexual and decided to date a man instead, but because he knows that pain in Santana's eyes, knows that she isn't over Brittany and it must hurt to see her with someone else, man or woman.

Santana smiles a little. "It's alright," she says. "I guess if it had to be anyone, she could do worse than trouty mouth."

"Sam is a good guy," Kurt says, meaning it even though his feelings on Sam are a little mixed at the moment. "He won't hurt her, not deliberately."

“Oh, I know,” Santana says, waves a hand. She eyes Kurt. “How’re you doing anyway, porcelain? I know you and Cary Grant broke up, but it seems like no one from the homeland has heard your side of the story except for Finnessa and he’s not talking.”

Kurt grimaces. “It was a bad break-up,” he admits, because when push comes to shove he and Santana are something like friends. “But I’m getting over it. Kind of.”

Something shifts in Santana’s expression. “You know the littlest gay still wants the D,” she says. “ _Your_ D. Are you not interested in that?”

Kurt rolls his eyes, but shakes his head. “I hope we can be friends,” he says, meaning it. “But I can’t be with him again, not now. Maybe in the future, if we’re both available and I feel like I can . . . .” He sighs.

“Like you can trust him again,” Santana finishes. “Well, shit. Brit’s going to be so disappointed. She was rooting for you guys to get back together.”

Kurt shrugs. “Everyone back home will probably be disappointed,” he says. “But my love life isn’t dictated by their feelings.”

Santana grins. “You go girl,” she says, pats Kurt on the shoulder. “Come on, let’s make sure Puckerman hasn’t broken anything yet.”

-

“So what do you crazy college kids do for fun around here?” Santana asks later, when they’ve all gathered on the living room floor to chat.

Kurt and Rachel exchange helpless looks. “Callbacks?” Rachel asks, more to Kurt than anyone else.

Kurt shrugs. It’s as good a place as any to take their friends.

“Callbacks?” Quinn repeats, eyebrow raising. “What’s that?”

 

 


	12. like you might make a mistake

“You two would hang out at a karaoke bar,” Santana says as they all crowd into Callbacks. It’s a little emptier than normal, surprising on a Friday night, but at least it means that they can easily find a few tables to hold everyone.

“I’ll have you know that this is a very hip place for NYADA students,” Rachel sniffs. “Isn’t that right, Brody?”

Brody grins a little. “Well, maybe not _really_ hip,” he corrects and Rachel hits his arm with outrage. “What! It’s karaoke!”

“I can’t believe you!” Rachel says. “Are you telling me that you lied to me?”

Brody leans in, kissing her cheek. “Only for your own good,” he says. “You were so determined to do karaoke and all, I thought it’d be better if you thought NYADA considered it cool.”

Rachel pouts and Brody kisses it off of her: as one, the old members of the New Directions wrinkle their noses in disgust.

“I thought it’d be better if she wasn’t macking with Finn,” Santana says. “But it’s really just worse.”

“Much worse,” Quinn agrees. “Even if he _is_ hotter than Finn.” Brody preens a little and Kurt rolls his eyes.

Kurt’s about to reply when he catches sight of a familiar head of hair. He’s on his feet before he can stop himself, shouting, “Sebastian!” over the din of the crowd.

Sebastian turns and grins when he meets Kurt’s eyes, wide and familiar. “Kurt!” he shouts back and begins shoving his way through the crowd.

“Is that--” Quinn starts.

“Sebastian Smythe,” Santana finishes for her, and at the grimness in her voice, Kurt turns to face her. He’s surprised by the hard line of her mouth. “What’re you doing with him?” Santana asks, a challenge in the rise of her eyebrow.

“We’re friends,” Kurt says, confused still. He’d thought Santana was over her grudge of Sebastian when he’d apologized to them last year. “He works with me at Vogue.com.”

“He says friends,” Rachel says, having detached herself from Brody, “but really he’d like them to be more.”

Kurt flushes, but when he doesn’t deny it, everyone’s eyes go very wide.

“Kurt!” Mercedes protests. “Have you forgotten what he did to Blaine? What he tried to do to _you_?”

Kurt’s spine stiffens at the mention of Blaine. “I’ve forgiven him for it,” he says. “Which I thought all of you had too, but apparently _not_. Now shut up, here he comes.”

Sebastian stops at their table, sweaty and disheveled in the low lamplight and Kurt’s throat tightens at the sight of him, the wide curve of his smile.

“Fancy meeting you here,” Sebastian says to Kurt and Kurt laughs.

“Such a line,” he laments and Sebastian shrugs.

“Can’t help myself, darling,” he says, then turns to regard the group. His expression shutters a little. “Been a long time since I’ve seen some of you folks, at least.”

There’s a long, tense moment of silence before Brody says. “Nice to see you again, Sebastian. Want to help me go get drinks for the table?”

Kurt flashes him a grateful look and Brody smiles. When Kurt looks back at Sebastian, he’s regarding Kurt with a thin-lipped look of annoyance. Kurt frowns at him and Sebastian rolls his eyes.

“Why not,” he tells Brody. “I do so love to play assistant to hulking masses of muscle.”

Brody grins, not at all offended, and they make their way through the crowd to the bar after getting everyone’s drink orders. Once they’re gone, the group rounds on Kurt again.

“I cannot believe this,” Quinn says. “This is Sebastian Smythe, Kurt!”

Kurt glares at them all. “What’s so bad about him?” he asks. “I mean, he was a dick in high school, but he’s changed since then.”

“People always say that when they date dicks,” Santana says. “I mean, I knew you were over Blaine, but I didn’t think that meant you’d go and date _Sebastian_ of all people. Remember that time he tried to slushie you? Or when he sabotaged us?”

“That was back in high school, Santana,” Kurt says, as patient as he can manage. “He’s grown up. You guys don’t know him very well - hell, I didn’t know him very well until a few months ago.”

“Kurt, you know that he doesn’t do relationships,” Mercedes says, and it’s her calm that catches Kurt’s attention the way Santana and Quinn’s accusations haven’t. “We’ve all heard him say how much he doesn’t do them. And whatever else you may be, you’re a relationship guy, Kurt. You know it can only end badly.”

Kurt bites his lip, can’t quite refute this because it’s what’s been in the back of his mind since he realized his feelings for Sebastian were less than platonic. They have different views on relationships, on love, ones that can’t quite match up evenly. Kurt couldn’t handle having Sebastian one night and then seeing him with someone else another--he’s not wired to take that sort of thing gracefully. And he knows Sebastian has never been interested in boyfriends, in the long-term.

“I know all that,” Kurt says quietly. “But I can’t stop feeling this way about him. I like him.”

“It’s a mistake, Kurt,” Rachel says, leaning in to pat his hand.

“Look, can the guys have a turn?” Puck butts in impatiently. “Now that you’ve all had your girl-talk or whatever?” They all turn to him and Mike. “Kurt, go _get_ it man.”

Kurt gapes at him. “Excuse me?”

“The best way to get over short-stack gay is to fuck yourself silly,” Puck says. “And Sebastian’s the king of fucking for gay dudes, so why not use him for it? And hell, maybe he’ll be so turned on by you or whatever he’ll want to be your hubby.”

Kurt’s truly astonished that Puck can function by himself sometimes. In Mike’s defense, he looks just as incredulous.

“I can’t begin to describe,” he says, “the things that could go wrong with that plan.”

“What plan?”

Kurt turns in his seat to see Sebastian and Brody behind him, drinks in their hands, regarding everyone with confusion. Kurt blushes.

“Nothing,” he says, not meeting Sebastian’s eyes. “Just something stupid Puck thought up.”

“Hey!” Puck protests. Mike slaps him on the shoulder.

“Kurt’s right, dude,” he says and Kurt flashes him a grateful smile. He knew there was a reason he always liked Mike.

Drinks are passed out and Sebastian takes a seat next to Kurt, shoulder to shoulder. His warmth is distracting: Kurt takes a huge swig of his drink and tries not to blush. Rachel eyes him closely and sighs, sets her drink aside.

“Girls,” Rachel says, “how would you feel about an all-female number?”

“Oh I’m _in_ ,” Santana says, smirking, and Mercedes and Quinn nod in unison.

Kurt watches as they strut up to the front with a sinking feeling because he knows that look in Rachel’s eyes and it never bodes well for anyone. The warmth at his side increases and he turns to come face to face with Sebastian. Kurt freezes.

“You look a little pale,” Sebastian says. His eyes are overwhelmingly green in the dim light. “Your old friends too much for you?”

Kurt leans back, manages a smile. “They can be overwhelming,” he says in an undertone. Puck and Mike are distracted though, drinking and talking to Brody. “It’s more that I think Rachel’s up to something, though.”

Sebastian snorts and as he leans back, putting more space between them, Kurt relaxes further. “No offense, but Rachel Berry’s schemes aren’t really worth worrying over,” he says.

“That was in no way un-offensive,” Kurt teases and Sebastian grins at him. Their attention is pulled back to the front as Rachel taps on her microphone to test it.

"My fellow friends and I would like to sing a song together,” she announces to the room. Her eyes drift until they lock with Kurt’s and she gets the determined set to her chin that Kurt knows and dreads. “This one goes out to our good friend, Kurt Hummel," Kurt covers his face with his hands and Puck claps him on the back.

"It could be worse, dude," he says, not at all sympathetic.

"Kurt, we love you and want you to make the right choices," Rachel continues, staring straight at him. Most of the bar is staring at him too and Kurt can feel a flush creeping up his neck. "Hopefully the all-powerful wisdom of Ms. Carrie Underwood will help you find your way." Kurt snorts a little and Rachel smiles before she waves a finger and the music begins.

Kurt buries his head in his hands before they even start singing. He doesn't like country music much, but Rachel does and he knows this song, Jesus—

The girls strut forward to cat-calls and wolf-whistles and Rachel takes lead on the vocals. _"You better take it from me,"_ she sings, staring at Kurt. _"That boy is like a disease!"_

Santana joins in before long, and Mercedes and Quinn, and it's the four of them harmonizing on, _"Looks like a cool drink of water, but he's candy coated misery!"_ Kurt can appreciate how amazing his friends are, but right now its hard considering they're all staring at him and he knows exactly who they're singing about because he's sitting two feet from Kurt's elbow, looking amused.

Sebastian leans in on the second chorus and murmurs, breath hot against the edge of Kurt's ear, "Got some boy in your love life, tiger?” he asks. Kurt wants to think that there’s something odd about his tone, but Kurt knows that he’s good at projecting these things so he ignores it. “Looks like your friends don’t approve.”

Kurt snorts as Rachel belts, _"He's a good-time cowboy casanova, leaning up against the record machine!"_

"They care about me," Kurt says. He side-eyes Sebastian, who’s watching the stage with an inscrutable expression. Kurt sighs, but adds, “And it’s not like I care what they think anyway.”

Sebastian turns and their eyes meet: for a moment, Kurt’s whole body lights up in a dance of electric nerves from the intensity of Sebastian’s gaze.

 _“Looks like a cool drink of water, but he’s candy-coated misery!”_ Santana sings and Kurt breaks their gaze, heart hammering. He can feel Sebastian staring at him still, but he stubbornly doesn’t look back: instead, he focuses his attention on the girls and the end of their performance.

They’re all bowing to the applause, grinning as they come back to the table.

“That was hot!” Puck hollers and Quinn slaps him upside the head.

“Did you get the memo, Porcelain?” Santana asks, oddly intense.

Kurt shifts, uncomfortable. “I got it, thanks,” he mutters. “Even if I think you’re all crazy and unnecessarily involved in my personal life.”

“So nobody’s going to tell me who Kurt likes?” Sebastian asks, leaning forward. “I’m _dying_ to know.”

There’s a long, awkward pause.

“Who wants more drinks!” Brody chimes in cheerfully and Kurt remembers again just how much he adores Brody.

-

Outside of Callbacks, they gather to discuss the rest of the night.

“I say we go out on the town!” Puck crows. “A night out in NYC, baby!”

Rachel wrinkles her nose. “The bar scene isn’t that great, Noah,” she says. “Kurt and I went once and--”

“You and _Hummel_ ,” Santana asks, incredulous. “I cannot believe _you_ two went clubbing.”

“I don’t know about Berry, but Kurt here was pretty good at it,” Sebastian butts in. Kurt glances at him and flushes at the gleam in Sebastian’s eye. “He had every hot boy in the club all over him.” Sebastian grins. “Including me.”

“Well you’re all over everyone,” Kurt says. “So it’s not like it was that much of a surprise.”

Sebastian regards him with a raised eyebrow. “Ouch, darling,” he says mildly.

Kurt rolls his eyes, turns back to the group--who are regarding the two of them like they’ve become conjoined Siamese twins. “I say we head back to the apartment,” Kurt says, uncomfortable. “Rachel’s right, the clubbing thing isn’t really our scene.”

“ _Hummel_ ,” Puck whines. “I just want some booze man, and maybe some hot chicks that I haven’t already banged.”

Kurt wrinkles his nose. “Noah isn’t allowed to have an opinion anymore,” he decides. “Everyone else?”

The rest agree to go back to the apartment on the condition that Brody, the only one of them over 21, collects alcohol for them all. Kurt and Rachel exchange looks, remembering the way their last party with alcohol had ended, but agree mostly to appease Puck, who looks more and more put out with every second that he isn’t drunk.

They’re about to head out when Sebastian pulls back, gesturing to Kurt.

“Maybe I should head,” Sebastian says, strangely self-conscious. “I mean, these are your friends--”

“I’d like you to come,” Kurt blurts out. Sebastian regards him curiously. “I mean, if you want,” Kurt adds, flushing. “It’ll be fun.”

Sebastian smiles, so low and warm that Kurt tingles a little from the sight of it. “You only had to ask, sweetheart,” he says.

-

They stop at a liquor store on the way back and Brody picks up several cases of beer and a few bottles of wine, tequila, and vodka, using their collective money. As soon as they get back to the apartment, Puck breaks open his first beer, chugging it down. The girls head for the wine and Mike rolls his eyes as he immediately goes for the vodka.

Kurt eyes the liquor and stays put. He’s never been drunk after his sophomore year, but that time had been traumatizing enough to make sure he never tried it again. Besides, someone has to look after his friends: they become a train-wreck disaster when drunk.

“Not having anything, darling?” Sebastian asks, taking a long swig of beer. “I’d thought you’d want some wine, at least.”

Kurt shrugs, a little uneasy. “I’m not the biggest fan,” he says. “And it’s probably good that one of us stays sober tonight.”

Sebastian’s expression is inscrutable. Around them, Kurt’s friends spread out, start chatting together as they drink. Rachel opens their laptop, starts some music up.

Sebastian breaks into a smile. “I guess I was hoping for a chance to see the meticulous Kurt Hummel wasted. I’m sure it’d be a laugh.”

Kurt stiffens a little. “Well, not tonight,” he says, more lightly than he feels. Sebastian’s smile fades into puzzlement and Kurt turns away. “I’d better go keep Quinn company,” he says when he spots her by herself. He hurries away, ignores the eyes he can feel on the back of his neck.

 

 


	13. maybe i can ease the ache, the ache

Kurt ducks into his bedroom and sighs. He loves his friends but they can be gigantic pains in his ass sometimes--especially when they’re all drunk. Kurt thought he knew how bad they could be from last time, but apparently he’d blocked out most of their embarrassing behavior because he’d severely underestimated them.

He’s spent the night avoiding Sebastian--which became easier after Sebastian had a few drinks and started spending his time hitting on Brody, Mike, and Puck in a constant succession. Kurt had watched from the corner, torn between amusement and jealousy--of course he knows all three of them are about as straight as they come, but something in him burns that Sebastian would drunk-hit on all of them before he thought of Kurt, the only other gay man in the room. But then again, it’s _Kurt_. Of course Sebastian would rather try his luck with straight guys rather than be with a lady-man like Kurt Hummel.

Kurt sighs. He’d promised himself no bitter thoughts tonight, but they keep creeping in on him anyway.

He jumps when his door opens and relaxes when he sees that it’s only Puck. Puck ambles to his side, slings an arm over Kurt’s shoulders.

"K'rt," Puck slurs, leaning heavily into Kurt's side. "K'rt, there's somethin' I need to," he hiccups, "tell ya."

Kurt sighs. He's only been drunk with Puck once before, and then they'd both been too distracted by other people to interact too much. From what Finn says, Kurt knows that Puck is a sentimental drunk, prone to confessions of love and exclamations of admiration in an extraordinarily soppy fashion.

"What is it?" Kurt asks.

Puck pauses. "K'rt," he says, as seriously as a drunk person can manage to be, "your ass is _awesome_."

Kurt stares at him. And stares some more. He can feel the blush fighting its way to his face as he squeaks out, " _What_?!"

"I had," Puck hiccups, "a crazy ass crush on you forever . It's almost as good as Santana 's." He pauses, considering. "Anderson's isn't bad either." Kurt flinches. "But yours is up there. God blessed that ass. So," he takes Kurt's hands in his and stares deeply into his eyes as he begins to sing, _"If I were gay, I'd give you my whole heart. And if I were gay, you'd be my work of art—"_

"Oh my _God_ ," Kurt yelps, yanking his hand out of Puck's. "Go dunk your head in cold water right now, you are not allowed to be near me without being sober."

 _"And if we were gay, we'd swim in romance,"_ Puck sings on, oblivious and Kurt slaps him. Puck blinks at him, eyes hazy, and his hand goes to his cheek. "Ow," he complains before collapsing.

Kurt stares down at his crumpled body, then decides that he's keeping the fact that he knocked Puckerman out with one measly little slap up his sleeve the next time he needs an ace. He steps over Puck's prone body into the living and groans when he sees Santana out in the corner, muttering angrily to herself, Rachel and Brody plastered together at the mouth, Quinn crying into her beer—

"I was gone for 20 minutes," Kurt says to the room at large. "How did you get so drunk in 20 minutes?"

"A lot of tequila," says an amused voice in his ear and Kurt jumps, turning to glare at Sebastian, who looks like he’s sobered up. "All drunk in very quick succession." Sebastian grins. "Your friends are lousy drunks. All horny or sad . . . well, the horny's okay, but when it's only the lesbians or straight girls, well . . . ."

"What, sad you can't get a piece of ass tonight?" Kurt asks, snide before he can stop himself, thinking of Sebastian’s earlier flirting. Sebastian's eyebrow raises and Kurt berates himself. He'd thought he could keep his composure, but two seconds in Sebastian's presence and he was slipping already. Some actor he was turning out to be. "Sorry," he mutters.

"No problem, cupcake," Sebastian says, smiling again. "We've said worse to each other." He glances around the room. "Want to try and sober your friends up?"

"Can we just ditch them?" Kurt asks, not really meaning it until Sebastian turns to him with a gleam in his eye.

"Want to get out of here?" he asks.

-

They go to their coffee shop. The barista at the counter grins at them and hands them their usual orders without asking. As they settle in at a window table, Kurt takes a sip of his and it warms him to his toes.

Sebastian stirs his own coffee with restless energy. Kurt frowns at him over the lip of his mug.

“What is it?” he asks.

Sebastian jumps, as if he’d forgotten Kurt was there. “Nothing,” he mutters. “It’s nothing, I’m just--” He shakes his head, manages a laugh. “Sorry. Today’s just a bad day, that’s all.”

“Oh?” Kurt asks, leaning forward. “What happened?”

Sebastian makes a face. “I had a heart-to-heart with my dad,” he says. Kurt’s eyebrow raises and Sebastian sighs. “It didn’t go well, as you may expect.”

“What did you say?” Kurt asks. He reaches for Sebastian’s hand, realizes when they touch that he probably should pull back--before he can, Sebastian twists his palm so that their fingers are firmly entwined. Kurt’s heart starts to beat a little faster, but he tries to stay focused on what Sebastian’s saying instead of the feeling of warm fingers wrapped around Kurt’s.

“I told him once and for all that I didn’t want to run the firm,” Sebastian says, drawing Kurt’s attention back to his face. “I’ve been told I’ll be officially disowned by the end of the week.”

Kurt sighs. “I’m sorry, Sebastian,” he says. “What are you going to do?”

“The apartment I’m in right now is paid for by my dad,” Sebastian says. “I guess I’ll be looking for a new place soon.” Sebastian stares down at the table.

Kurt’s throat tightens. “Will you be moving away from New York?” he asks, tries not to let it show how important the answer is to him.

Sebastian glances at him, smiles. “Would you miss me, sweetheart?” he asks.

Kurt glares. “No,” he bites out, the lie obvious.

Sebastian laughs. “No, I’m not moving,” he says and Kurt can’t hide his relief. “Isabelle has been good to me and I don’t want to move away from her.” He smiles at Kurt. “Plus I’ve made some good friends here, it’d be a shame to abandon them.”

Kurt feels very warm. “Oh,” he says. Then, before he can talk himself out of it, he blurts out, “I’m glad.”

Sebastian’s smile deepens. “Me too.”

Kurt needs to distract himself because he can’t handle Sebastian smiling at him right now. “So will you stay at Vogue.com?”

“I think so,” Sebastian says. “I might apply to a few schools for the fall, try and get myself an education and all that.” His smile deepens. “I’ve young,” he says. “I’ve got time to figure it out.”

-

When they get back, it’s to chaos. His friends are gathered in the living room, chatting loudly. Kurt grins when he sees Puck, who’s pointedly avoiding him.

"Kurt!" Rachel says, standing on tiptoes to sling an arm around his shoulder. She smells of beer. "Let's play truth or dare!"

Kurt, still mostly sober, makes a face. "Are we in seventh grade, Rachel?" he asks.

Rachel pouts at him. "It's fun!" she says, poking his chest with her free hand. "And you've been Mr. Grumpypants all night. Come on!"

Kurt considers her, then sighs. "Alright," he says.

"Truth or dare!" Rachel immediately hollers and the immediate response are drunken cheers. "Everyone in here, now!"

Their friends shuffle in and manage to arrange themselves in a vague circle shape, collapsing on top of each other. He pointedly doesn't look at Sebastian as he sits down next to Brody, even though he's sure he can feel Sebastian's eyes on him.

"Since it's my house, I get to go first," Rachel says.

"Mine too," Kurt points out, but Rachel ignores him.

"Brody," she says. Kurt groans and Brody, obviously one of the more sober people in the room, flashes him a quick grin. "Truth or dare?"

Brody considers it. "Truth," he says.

"Chicken!" Rachel scolds him. "What's your most embarrassing sex story?"

Kurt chokes on his spit. "Rachel!" he says, scandalized. She blinks at him with large, drunk hazed eyes.

"No, no, it's fine," Brody says, laughing. "Probably my first time? No one ever gave me the talk so I had no idea what I was doing . . . And it ended in like five seconds and the girl told everyone that the next day. Super embarrassing."

Kurt thinks, for a moment, on his own first time—the rush of pleasure, Blaine's smile in the afterglow, the way they'd laid together for hours. Without meaning to, he catches Sebastian's eye and has to look away.

Brody considers the circle and then, to Kurt's dawning horror, gets a glint in his eye that Kurt recognizes from years of dealing with Puckerman. "Sebastian," Brody says. "Truth or dare?"

They have a staring contest for a long moment. "Dare," Sebastian says, leaning back on his hands, confidence oozing from him.

Brody grins like Sebastian just played right into his hands. "I dare you," he says, "to give Kurt a lap dance to any song of your choosing."

Kurt chokes again, then stares at Brody in wide-eyed betrayal. Brody just smiles at him, pleased with himself. Kurt tries not to, but finds himself glancing at Sebastian, who's considering him closely.

"I'll do it," he says and Kurt feels like his entire face is going to erupt into a blush.

Brody immediately ushers Kurt into one of their few chairs to make things easier and Kurt does what he says without thinking because his brain is still stuck on _lap dance_ and _Sebastian_. Sebastian stands, makes his way over to Rachel's iPod stand and flicks through her songs. Kurt knows the moment he finds the one he wants—his entire face lights up with a wicked smile that decidedly does not make heat inch up Kurt's spine.

As the guitar intro begins, Sebastian turns and there's something—different about him. Sebastian has always had a sort of subconscious grace to him, but now he moves in a deliberately languid way, as if he's just woken up from a really long and satisfying sleep or had a particularly good round of sex. Kurt swallows heavily as Sebastian begins to undo the buttons of his dress shirt, hips swinging as he comes closer. The girls, especially Rachel, are cat-calling, but Sebastian's eyes are fixed on Kurt.

_"I must admit, I can't explain, any of these thoughts running through my brain, it's true, that baby I'm howlin’ for you . . . ."_

Sebastian undoes the last button and lets his shirt slide seamlessly off his shoulders, leaving him in an off-white tank top. The curve of his bicep is luscious in the dim lamplight and Kurt shudders a little. Sebastian grins like he can sense Kurt's arousal and comes even closer until he's standing in front of Kurt, hips swinging to the beat. Without a word, he lowers himself until he's straddling Kurt's lap. Kurt shivers again. His skin feels hot, tender to the touch, and having Sebastian so close isn't helping.

Sebastian lowers his mouth to Kurt's ear. _"Baby I'm howlin’ for you,"_ he breathes with the lyrics and Kurt's getting hard, he can feel it.

Sebastian's hips are made of sin, grinding down into Kurt's lap with abandon, with languid grace. Sebastian folds his arms over Kurt's shoulder and sings along with the song in Kurt's ear, warm breath dancing so delicately along the shell of Kurt's ear that he can't stop shuddering. They are chest to chest, and Kurt suddenly wishes that he wasn't wearing so many layers, that Sebastian would shed his undershirt, that they were doing this in a bed far away from prying eyes—

The song comes to a close and Sebastian slides off of Kurt's lap almost immediately. Kurt lets out a long breath and reminds himself that Sebastian doesn’t think of him like that, never has and never will. Even if Sebastian can admit he has appeal, Kurt will always be a baby penguin to him.

“I think I won that dare, yeah?” Sebastian says to Brody as he picks up his shirt, pulls it back on. He doesn’t bother buttoning it back up.

Brody grins. “Oh, yeah,” he says. “Stripper in another life?”

“Fuck you,” Sebastian says, but he’s laughing. “My turn now, right? Unlike some people I didn’t go to a lot of slumber parties.”

“Fuck you ,” Brody responds, to which Sebastian leers.

“Anytime, sweetheart,” he says. Kurt stiffens and Sebastian darts a look at him before glancing away. “Santana, truth or dare?” he asks. Kurt stares down at his knees as Santana answers and wonders why he hurts so much.

 


	14. so let me give your heart a break

When truth or dare putters out, they start a round of spin the bottle--Kurt remembers his last adventure with that particular game and gracefully bows out, to the boos of his friends. He retreats to the kitchen and stands at the counter for a long moment, breathing in and out, forcing calm. It’s surprisingly difficult when he remembers Sebastian’s leer at Brody, the way his hips had felt against Kurt’s--

“Tired of the nonsense?”

Kurt turns towards Sebastian, calm instantly broken. Sebastian’s always had a knack for doing that.

“Last time we had a party like this we played spin the bottle,” Kurt says. “It didn’t really end well for me.” He remembers Blaine’s hand tangled in Rachel’s hair, the shocking hurt of their argument the next day and swallows.

Sebastian doesn’t ask. “Want to get out of here again?” he asks, leaning into Kurt’s space. From the smell of him, he’s had a couple more drinks.

“No,” Kurt says, terse. “I think everyone will probably pass out soon, I should be here to drag them into semi-comfortable positions.”

Sebastian’s eyes clear a little. “Are you upset?” he asks. “About the lap dance? It was just a friendly thing, darling, no need--”

“I’m not upset,” Kurt snaps, reins himself in. “You’re right, it was just a friendly thing. It just caught me by surprise, that’s all.”

Sebastian smiles at him, a little tentative. “You sure?” he asks. “I know you’re not as . . . .”

Kurt’s temper rises a little. “As?” he prompts through gritted teeth.

Sebastian senses the danger, chooses his next words carefully. “As comfortable with sex as I am,” he says.

Kurt takes a deep breath. “I don’t know when you got this impression of me as some sort of blushing virgin,” he says. “But you should probably know that I’m not one .”

Sebastian backtracks in what would have been an endearing way if Kurt was less pissed. “No, no, no! Of course not! I just meant that I’ve had a lot more sex than you!” He winces, amends, “I’ve had more partners than you, so I just feel like--”

“Like what, I’m some kind of prude?” Kurt asks, on edge.

Sebastian throws his hands up. “What do you want me to say here, Kurt? You’ve always been uncomfortable whenever I talk about sex!”

Kurt is just drunk enough to not care as he spits out, “Because you’re always talking about sex with _other people_!”

Sebastian goes so still that he might have been frozen solid. “Kurt?” he says, lips barely moving. “Kurt, what are you--”

Kurt’s moving through a haze of drunken courage as he pushes into Sebastian’s space, leans up and presses their lips together.

There’s a moment of pure bliss as Sebastian kisses back, presses fiercely against him. Then Kurt is being pushed away--

“No,” Sebastian says, and there’s such a wrecked quality to his voice that Kurt’s too stunned to talk for a moment.

“Sebastian--” he manages.

“We’re both too drunk, Kurt,” Sebastian says. “We can’t do this, not like this.”

Kurt’s heart thuds against his ribcage. Not like this? he thinks and hope dares to rise in his chest. He steps closer to Sebastian.

“Sebastian,” he says again, softer.

Sebastian looks down at him, eyes wide and green. This close, Kurt can count his eyelashes, take in the moist bow of his mouth. “We can’t, Kurt,” Sebastian repeats, but quieter this time. He’s softening.

Kurt takes another tiny step: he and Sebastian are chest to chest now, breathing the same air. It’s hard for Kurt to think, so all he says is Sebastian’s name once more. For a long moment, they stare at each other.

Sebastian curses, crushes Kurt’s lips against his own in a sloppy, ferocious kiss. Kurt winds his arms around Sebastian’s shoulders, digs his fingers into Sebastian’s hair and kisses back, just as fierce and messy.

When they pull apart, Kurt pants, “Bedroom,” into the space between their mouths.

Sebastian’s face crumples with uncertainty. “Kurt, I don’t think--”

Kurt pulls him into another kiss, pulls away. “ _Bedroom_ ,” he demands and Sebastian’s protests fall away.

-

It’s hard to concentrate with Sebastian’s mouth on his, so it takes Kurt a couple of tries to open his bedroom door. Sebastian doesn’t let him go as they stumble inside--instead he crowds close, mouth hot, panting as he presses it to Kurt’s lips, jaw line, neck. Kurt’s head falls back as Sebastian bites gently at the curve of his shoulder, and the sounds he makes as Sebastian starts to suck in the same place is strung-out, broken.

“Like that?” Sebastian murmurs, mouth muffled by Kurt’s skin.

Kurt grips Sebastian by the back of his head and pulls him back up for another kiss. “Bed,” he demands as they pull apart and Sebastian laughs.

“Easy, tiger,” he says. “Foreplay’s half the fun.”

Kurt whines before he can stop himself, because Sebastian’s hot and close and he just _wants_. Sebastian bops him on the nose.

“Come on,” he says, leads Kurt to his bed.

He pushes Kurt down onto it and nonchalantly arranges him to Sebastian’s liking--laying down, spread out. Sebastian stands over him, eyes hooded, dark. Kurt feels a thread of self-consciousness through the drunken horniness and tries to sit up. Sebastian, however, just pushes him back down again and casually climbs onto the bed and over him, hips settling comfortably over Kurt’s.

“You know, I told you once that I’d never sleep with someone who looks like you,” Sebastian says, leaning down into Kurt’s space so that they are eye to eye. Kurt shivers. “I probably should tell you that that was the stupidest thing I’ve ever said.”

He presses a kiss to Kurt’s mouth. Kurt stares up at him as they part, feeling vulnerable, for some strange reason. “Because you’ll sleep with me anyways?” he asks without meaning to.

An odd expression crosses Sebastian’s face before he says, “Because you’re fucking gorgeous, darling.” As he presses another kiss to Kurt’s mouth, he adds, “And I’m lucky to be right where I am.”

Kurt’s not sure why he feels like crying, why there’s this strange, solemn mood over the two of them now. Suddenly desperate to throw that feeling off, he wraps his arms around Sebastian’s shoulders and pulls him down lower so that he’s lying on top of Kurt, their chest touching. They kiss deeply, tongues intertwining and Kurt bucks upward without meaning to--and groans when their hips align, cocks brushing through fabric.

Sebastian thrusts down against him and they’re rocking together, messy and uncoordinated and drunk. Kurt bites Sebastian’s lip when he grinds down too hard and Sebastian gasps--Kurt bites his lip again just to hear that sound once more. Sebastian presses kisses to Kurt’s cheek, down his jaw line, his ear--

“Little bitch,” he whispers before biting the edge of Kurt’s ear lobe. Kurt’s hips jump and he can’t quite stop the moan. He can feel Sebastian’s smirk against the skin of his neck and, to get his revenge, he shifts, wraps a leg around Sebastian’s knee and pulls him in closer, thrusting upward. When Sebastian shudders above him, Kurt lets out a smirk of his own.

They rock together, and Kurt’s blinded by the heat, the friction, the pleasure of it--sparks line up his spine and he realizes, with a bit of amused dismay, that he’s one thrust away from coming in his pants like he’s seventeen and experimenting with Blaine for the first time all over again. As if sensing this, Sebastian pulls away, stares down at Kurt with lust-blown eyes, panting. Kurt stares up at him, the wet bow of his mouth.

“Can I blow you?” Sebastian asks and Kurt jumps. “Kurt, can I--”

“Yes,” Kurt breathes and Sebastian’s moving down before Kurt can say anything else, flicking open the button to Kurt’s jeans with such easy grace that Kurt’s reminded how much Sebastian has done this before. It’s easy to forget that thought when Sebastian reaches in and pulls out Kurt’s cock--Kurt arches into the warm touch of his hands and forgets everything else.

“Christ, Hummel,” Sebastian says, rubbing the head. “Who knew you were packing away something like this?”

“Can there be less talking,” Kurt pants, “and more blowing from your end?”

Sebastian laughs and Kurt, even with his building frustration at being so close to coming and not able to, softens a little at the sound, at the knowledge that Sebastian is comfortable enough with him to joke in bed. He’s drunk, but he still knows better than to be hopeful that this will turn out the way he wants--and yet, hope rises.

“As the master commands,” Sebastian says, and lowers his mouth to Kurt’s cock.

Sebastian, Kurt decides, is the ultimate tease--he lingers over the head of Kurt’s cock and puts his hands on Kurt’s hips to keep him from straining upward to force the issue--when Kurt glances down, Sebastian smirks up at him, mouth full of dick, and Kurt doesn’t want to find that hot, but his body has other ideas.

“Sebastian,” he moans. “Come on --”

Sebastian pulls off. “Did you want something, princess?” he asks, teasing. “What’s the magic word?”

Kurt glares at him. “Would you _please_ ,” he says through gritted teeth, “suck my cock already?”

Sebastian laughs again. “As you wish,” he says and bows down for a second time--however instead of lingering and teasing, he buries his mouth over Kurt’s cock until his nose brushes Kurt’s stomach. Kurt half-screams, bucks upward into the warm, wet heat, feels his cock head slide down Sebastian’s throat. Sebastian sucks him down easily and Kurt has a moment to realize that Sebastian either doesn’t have a gag reflex or trained himself out of it before he loses his mind to pleasure.

Sebastian’s hands are still firm on Kurt’s hips, but Kurt manages to rock into Sebastian’s mouth in tiny little thrusts, and even that little amount of friction makes Kurt hurry towards coming almost embarrassingly quick. When he glances down, Sebastian’s eyes are fixed on him--when their eyes meet, Sebastian hums, long and loud, and the vibrations on Kurt’s cock are enough to send him spiralling over the edge of orgasm, pleasure-blissed and sated.

When he comes back to himself, Sebastian is hovering over him, eyes dark and hooded. Kurt stares at the drop of come at the edge of Sebastian’s mouth, reaches up to wipe it off with his thumb. Sebastian’s eyes close at the touch and Kurt’s finger linger there against Sebastian’s plush lower lip.

“What can I do for you?” Kurt asks, voice a little hoarse.

Sebastian smiles down at him. “No need, darling,” he says.

Kurt’s eyes widen and he glances down--even in the dim light, it’s easy to see a wet splotch against Sebastian’s jeans. Sebastian leans down to kiss him and he tastes of Kurt’s come.

“I really like giving blowjobs,” Sebastian admits against his lips. “And you’re pretty hot when you come, Kurt Hummel.”

Kurt shivers a little, but it’s far too soon for him to get hard again. As he relaxes into the kiss, he feels sleepiness start to drift over him.

“You should change,” Kurt says between kisses, yawning a little. “Those will be disgusting in the morning.”

Sebastian pauses. “You want me to stay?” he asks.

Kurt remembers that there’s a reason he’s not supposed to want to: between the leftover drunkenness, his orgasm, and the sleepiness, he can’t remember what it is.

“Yes,” Kurt says, firm. “Cuddle time.”

There’s a long pause and then Sebastian sighs. Kurt’s eyes are closed, but he can hear Sebastian shifting, the sound of clothes being taken off before the bed dips again and Sebastian curls into his side.

“Don’t think I do this for everyone,” Sebastian threatens in his ear.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Kurt murmurs and falls into a deep, satisfied sleep.

-

Kurt wakes to an arm across his waist and an unfamiliar body pressed against his. For a moment he lies still, mind furiously processing and then he remembers--

He turns his head, sees Sebastian’s sleeping face so close to his and bites down around a scream.

“Shit,” he whispers, and his breath stirs Sebastian’s eyelashes. For a moment Sebastian shifts, eyelids flickering, and Kurt holds his breath until he settles back into a deep sleep. Then, careful and slow, Kurt unwinds Sebastian’s arm from his waist, slips out of the bed.

Kurt’s bedroom was empty except for Sebastian, but outside of it, his friends are strewn across the floor like a game of 52 pick up - Santana piled on top of Mike, Rachel and Mercedes on each other’s shoulder, Puck curled around Brody. Quinn, when he checks, is huddled in Rachel’s bed, snoring. They are all fast asleep, probably knocked unconscious by the serious amount of booze they inhaled. Kurt takes a deep breath.

He needs to get out of there. He doesn’t know what’s going to happen when Sebastian wakes up, when he remembers, but he does know that it won’t be anything good. At best, Sebastian will shrug it off as a drunken sexcapade--at worst, he’ll call of their friendship, avoid Kurt. Honestly, Kurt’s screwed either way--he’s not sure he can handle Sebastian joking about last night, treating it casually.

Kurt checks on Quinn to make sure she’s alright and then slips out of Rachel’s bedroom. He freezes when he sees Sebastian in the doorway of his room, half-naked and sleepy-eyed. His hair is a tangled tuft plastered to one side of his head, and the sight is so ridiculously endearing that Kurt’s heart aches a little.

“Kurt?” Sebastian slurs. “Where’re you going?”

Kurt’s heart hammers in his throat. “Out for coffee,” he manages to cough out. “For when everyone wakes up.”

Sebastian’s face clears up a little and he straightens as he comes awake more. “Oh,” he says.

There’s a long, awkward pause.

“You should probably get dressed to do that,” Sebastian observes.

Kurt flushes as he realizes he’s shirtless, pants hanging off his hips. A ghost of a smile teases at the edge of Sebastian’s mouth, but he doesn’t comment as Kurt hurries past him into his bedroom to get dressed.

 


	15. on sunday you went alone, there were tears in your eyes

Kurt is tense all morning, but Sebastian never brings up last night.

The others wake up after the smell of coffee comes wafting in the apartment, and Kurt is busy for a while dealing with their aches, pains, and whining, so it’s easy to avoid Sebastian, who silently takes his coffee and sits in a corner, watching all the madness. But once everything’s settled, Kurt fully expects Sebastian to pull him aside or make a side comment or--well, anything except keep steadily silent on the subject.

Irritatingly, it makes Kurt more nervous than he’d been before.

Sebastian seems normal enough, though. He makes jokes at Kurt’s expense, trades barbs with Santana, good-natured quips with Brody. There’s nothing really off about him--except that once, when he’s smiling, Kurt notices that it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

His friends drift into the living room, sipping their coffees and chatting, all of them a little more put-together now that they’ve had food. Kurt watches them, tenses when he feels Sebastian comes up on his side.

“We should probably talk, darling,” he says and Kurt folds in on himself a little.

“Alright,” he says, even though he’d rather do anything else.

They retreat into Kurt’s bedroom, and Kurt notices Mercedes and Rachel watching as he closes the door behind him. Before it snaps shut, he shrugs, watches their expressions turn concerned. Then the door is closed and it’s just Kurt and Sebastian, left alone.

Sebastian sits on Kurt’s bed, whose covers are still rumpled. Kurt can’t quite bring himself to sit next to him, so he stands instead, waiting.

“Last night,” Sebastian starts and Kurt sees the tension in his face, suddenly knows where this is going. “It was a mistake.”

It’s hard for Kurt to breathe.

“We were both drunk and horny,” Sebastian continues, looking anywhere but at Kurt. “It was just like the lap dance, yeah? A little tryst between friends.”

Kurt’s throat is tight and he realizes that he’s close to tears. He knew this would happen, knew that all Sebastian would offer him was sex--really great sex, sure, but Kurt can handle the aftermath of that, can’t pretend that only having Sebastian’s dick and not the rest of him doesn’t make something crumble in him.

He puts on his show face. “Of course,” he says, as cool as he can manage. “What’s a blowjob between friends?”

Sebastian looks uncomfortable. “I know you don’t usually--”

“Sebastian,” Kurt says, a little more gentle. “I understand.” He tries to smile. “I promise I won’t turn into a jealous lover just because we had a drunk one-night stand.”

Sebastian shifts, and there’s something odd in his expression. “So we’re still friends?” he asks, unsure.

Kurt sighs. “Of course we’re still friends, Sebastian,” he says. He feels so tired all of the sudden. “Come on, let’s go. The others will be wondering where we are.”

“Kurt--” Sebastian starts again, eyebrows furrowed.

“Sebastian,” Kurt snaps. “Please just drop it.”

Sebastian bites his lip, does so. As they leave, Kurt keeps his show face on, hopes that no one can see that he’s been hurt again--and this time, it’s probably his own fault.

-

After Sebastian’s left to go home, Rachel corners Kurt in his room. Outside, their friends are chatting amongst themselves.

“Are you okay?” Rachel asks. “This morning, with Sebastian--”

“We slept together last night,” Kurt confesses, not looking at her.

A long pause.

“Oh, _Kurt_ ,” Rachel says, because she knows that if this was good news Kurt wouldn’t be holed up in his bedroom, on the edge of tears.

“It was a mistake,” says Kurt. “That’s what Sebastian said anyway. And that’s all it was, a mistake.” He curls into himself tighter. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” he whispers, almost to himself.

Rachel pulls him into a hug. Kurt startles at the touch, then relaxes into it. “There’s nothing wrong with you,” Rachel whispers into his ear, fierce.

“Everyone leaves me, Rachel,” Kurt says, and if he wasn’t feeling miserable and pathetic he probably would never say this, but, “Blaine didn’t want me and Sebastian doesn’t want me and I’m just so tired of being the guy no one wants.”

“Blaine wanted you,” Rachel says. “He made a stupid mistake, but if you ever think that that boy didn’t love you more than anything in the world, you’re ridiculous. Blaine will hate himself for losing you for years.” She sighs. “As for Sebastian--if he didn’t want you, he’d never have slept with you, Kurt.”

“We were drunk,” Kurt says. “It was convenient--”

“Sebastian only had a couple of drinks,” Rachel corrects. “I remember. If anything, he was mildly buzzed.” She shakes her head and Kurt feels the slide of her hair over his shoulder. “Look, Kurt, you know I don’t like him and I don’t think he’s good enough for you, but what really matters is what you think. If you really like him, then you need to tell him.”

“I can’t,” Kurt says, leaning away from her. “He hates relationships, Rachel, there’s no way he’d go for one--and he’s made it perfectly clear that he doesn’t want anything more from me than sex, and even that’s debatable. And I can’t have him one night and see him with someone else another--I’d go mad.”

“You’re going to drive yourself insane if you insist on pining after him too!” Rachel exclaims.

“And what happens when I confess, huh?” Kurt snaps, angry now. “Do you think he’s going to magically fall into my arms and we’ll reconcile all our differences? No! He’ll hate me and then I’ll lose one of my closest friends instead! I can’t handle that either, Rachel!”

Rachel looks ready to retort, then deflates suddenly, presses her face into her hands. “I just hate seeing you so miserable,” she says into her palms and Kurt’s fury dissipates. He pulls her into a hug.

“I’ll be fine,” he says. “I’d rather be Sebastian’s friend than lose him entirely. This--crush, it’ll putter out eventually and we’ll all be the better for it.”

Rachel looks up at him, disbelief in her expression. “Are you sure?” she asks, skeptically.

Kurt shrugs. “I have to believe it,” he says, even though he knows that he doesn’t.

-

An invitation comes in their mail for Schue and Ms. Pillsbury’s wedding in a few weeks. Kurt and Rachel book their plane tickets and Kurt tries not to wonder if Sebastian would agree to being his plus one.

-

Kurt and Sebastian continue as normal during their work week, but Kurt notices that there’s a kind of distance between them now that wasn’t there before. He hopes that as time goes by and Sebastian sees that Kurt is unaffected by their tryst (even though he is affected by it, but he can never show it, especially not to Sebastian) that they’ll fall back into their normal pattern. As Friday approaches though, he’s starting to despair that that will happen.

He’s waiting for Rachel again when he catches sight of Adam strolling down the hall. Kurt hesitates, then hurries after him.

“Adam!” he calls. Adam turns and breaks into a wide smile.

“Kurt!” he says. “How lovely to see you again. Waiting for your roommate?”

“She doesn’t like to walk home alone,” Kurt explains. Now that he’s in this situation, he feels a little anxious. “Uhm, I’m sorry to bother you. Were you heading for class?”

“No,” Adam says. “I have about an hour before practice with the Apples--thought I’d spend it in the library, being a responsible citizen.” He smiles. “What can I do for you?”

Kurt bites his lip, notices the way Adam’s eyes dart down toward the motion, then back up. The look gives him a confidence boost.

“Rachel--that’s my roommate--and I are going to Callbacks tonight with some friends,” he says. Adam’s eyes light up before Kurt adds, “I was wondering if you’d like to come?”

Adam raises an eyebrow. “As a friend?” he challenges.

Kurt’s spine straightens. “As my date,” he clarifies.

For a long moment, Adam observes him. “Is Sebastian going?” he asks.

Kurt blinks, nonplussed. “Yes, probably,” he says. Sebastian had agreed when Kurt asked him that afternoon, though he hadn’t looked as enthused as Kurt hoped.

Adam nods, thoughtful. “I see,” he says. “Well, I’d be happy to accompany you, Kurt.” Kurt sighs, relieved, and Adam winks at him. “I’ll meet you there?” he asks.

“At around seven,” Kurt says. An awkward pause before Kurt hears doors opening behind them as a class ends. He realizes it’s probably Rachel’s class and says, “I’ll see you tonight then.”

“See you, Kurt,” Adam says and they part. As Kurt jogs back to Rachel’s classroom, darting through a throng of people, he wonders why he doesn’t feel more excited that he has a hot blond date tonight.

 


	16. i called your cell phone, my love, but you did not reply

Rachel, Brody, and Kurt arrive at Callbacks together: Kurt immediately searches the crowd for either Sebastian or Adam. On stage, a group of boys are singing a Backstreet Boys song.

He spots Sebastian’s distinctive hair and popped collar combo and starts to move in his direction--only to stop short when he realizes Sebastian is folded over another man. Kurt’s heart thuds in his throat as Sebastian laughs, leans down to a press a kiss to the stranger’s mouth.

“Kurt?” Rachel says from behind him. “Kurt, what’s--” She stops, so Kurt knows she’s seen. “Oh, _Kurt_ ,” she says, gentle. “Do you want to go?”

Kurt swallows, eyes fixed on Sebastian and his date. “No,” he says. “I’m meeting Adam here, anyways.”

He manages to tear his eyes away to look at Rachel: she stares back at him with sweet, sad understanding.

“Well, come on then,” she says, pulling him into the crowd. “We can at least avoid them for a while.”

They find a table and Brody, as ever, goes to get drinks. Rachel and Kurt chat for a little while about NYADA and Kurt knows Rachel is trying to keep him distracted and is thankful to her for it, but his mind keeps going back to Sebastian and his new boy, the kiss they shared. Kurt knows that he doesn’t have a right to be jealous, that he and Sebastian are no more than friends, that this boy will probably be gone within days and replaced with another one: but still, he can’t stop the bile rising in his throat at the thought of Sebastian with someone else.

 _I hate myself sometimes,_ Kurt thinks, miserable.

A hand on his shoulder makes him turn and he smiles when he sees Adam standing there, grinning at him.

“You’re a hard man to find, Kurt Hummel,” Adam says, sitting down. “This place is packed! I’ve actually never been in here.” He glances around with curiosity, then turns to Rachel. “Excuse my manners--I’m Adam Crawford. You must be Kurt’s infamous roommate.”

Rachel smiles. “Rachel Berry,” she says. “It’s nice to meet you, Adam, Kurt’s said a lot about you.”

Adam glances at Kurt. “All good things, I hope?” he teases. Kurt flushes and, in the ensuing conversation, manages to forget about Sebastian.

That of course, all goes to hell when he sees Sebastian approaching their table hand-in-hand with his new boy-toy. Kurt stiffens, wishes that he could flee, but forces himself to stay still as Sebastian comes close.

“Hey all,” Sebastian says casually. “This is Mike, my catch of the night.” Mike giggles and Kurt stiffens. Sebastian grins at them. “It’s possible he’s a little drunk,” Sebastian admits. “We may cut out early.” His eyes find Kurt’s and Kurt forces a smile.

“Sebastian, you remember Adam,” Kurt says, taking Adam’s hand. Sebastian’s gaze drops at the motion and he frowns a little.

“Kurt didn’t say you were coming,” Sebastian says, looking back at Adam.

Adam looks between them. “I’m Kurt’s date for the night,” he says, cheerful.

Kurt watches Sebastian’s expression closely, but sees nothing there except honest confusion and amusement. His heart drops to his toes as he realizes that it’s futile: Sebastian doesn’t see him as anything other than a friend that he fucked once, and will never see him like that. Kurt will watch as Sebastian trades in trick of the week after trick of the week, always hurting and never able to say anything unless he wants to lose Sebastian’s friendship too.

“If you’ll all excuse me,” Kurt mutters. “I need some air.” He hurries out of the bar, pushing past people in his haste.

Once outside he takes deep breaths, tries to calm down. He’d already known Sebastian felt nothing more for him than friendship, but it hurts to have it thrown in his face this way. It also hurts, he acknowledges, that Mike is gorgeous, far better-looking than Kurt, and Kurt knows that he is Sebastian’s type--not Kurt. Never Kurt.

Footsteps approach and Kurt looks over to see Adam at his side. Adam sighs, puts a hand on Kurt’s shoulder. “You like Sebastian,” he says.

Kurt buries his face in his hands. “Am I really so obvious?” he asks, dreading the thought that Sebastian has known all this time.

Adam laughs. “Probably not to him,” he admits. “But to everyone else--yeah. Besides, I’ve dealt with my own share of unrequited love, I know what it’s like.”

Kurt looks up at him. “I’m sorry, Adam,” Kurt says. “You’re very nice and I really do like you. But--”

“You’ve got a thing for tall, dark, and handsome,” Adam finishes, smiling. “I get it, I do. And I’d still like to be your friend, even if I can’t be your boyfriend.” He brushes Kurt’s chin with his knuckles, playful and gentle. “But if you’re ever interested, Kurt, all you need to do is ask.” He leans in until their noses brush. “May I?”

Kurt considers his face: handsome, playful, gentle. He nods and Adam brushes their lips together in a soft, sweet kiss. It doesn’t send electricity racing to his toes like Sebastian’s did, but it’s nice, relaxing, and Kurt smiles into it.

“Kurt?”

Kurt jumps back, knocking his head against the wall he’d been leaning on. Behind Adam, Sebastian stares at them, wide-eyed.

Adam takes a step away from Kurt, looks between them and rolls his eyes. “I’d better head out. I’ll see you around, Kurt,” he says. “I wasn’t kidding about practicing with the Apples whenever you want.”

“I’ll definitely do that,” Kurt says. “Bye Adam.”

Adam walks off. For a moment, Sebastian and Kurt just stare at each other.

“I came out to make sure you were okay,” Sebastian says, oddly stilted. “Looks like Adam already managed that.”

Kurt smiles. “He’s a good guy,” he says, meaning it.

Sebastian sighs, moves to lean against the wall next to Kurt. “You two dating now?” he asks.

Kurt glances up at him. “No,” he admits. He wonders if he imagines the sudden relaxation in Sebastian’s shoulders. “No, we’ve decided to just be friends.”

“I see,” Sebastian says. “Well, that’s probably for the best. Guy like that with you . . . .”

Kurt bristles. “What do you mean, a guy like that ?” he asks, strained. “You mean an attractive, well-mannered, talented guy?” His voice turns a little shrill because he’s still a little on edge from before. “Yes, what on Earth could a guy like that want with someone like me?”

“Kurt--” Sebastian starts.

“Maybe I can’t attract the Mike’s of the world,” Kurt interrupts, vicious, “but I have plenty of charms and plenty of boys who want to enjoy them, Sebastian.”

There’s a long silence.

“Sorry,” Sebastian says at last. “I meant that--um, that you were too good for him.” Sebastian sounds awkward and Kurt wonders if that’s the truth, if Sebastian isn’t just covering for his misstep.

“Sure,” Kurt mutters.

“Really!” Sebastian says, firmer now. “He seems nice enough, but you could do better than him! I mean he’s already like ten years older than you, and he’s not really that attractive--”

Kurt turns to stare at Sebastian, bemused. “He’s only three years older than me,” he corrects. “And he’s plenty attractive, Sebastian.”

Sebastian frowns at him, arms folded over his chest. “I guess,” he says. “Still, you’re better off without him.”

Kurt smiles, feels a little better now that he can see Sebastian is being sincere. “Thanks,” he says. He eyes Sebastian and before he can stop himself, asks, “Do you want to come with me back to Lima?” Sebastian turns to stare at him, incredulous, and Kurt hurries to add, “We’re going home for a wedding and I was wondering if you’d be my plus one.”

“Are you sure?” Sebastian asks, uncertain. “I mean, I’m not exactly close to your teacher and your glee club isn’t very fond of me--”

“I’d like it if you came with me,” Kurt interrupts, heart hammering. “If you’re not busy and if you’d like to.”

Sebastian smiles at him. “You just want someone to help you mock your friends’ outfits, don’t you?”

“You caught me,” Kurt lies. “Think about it, okay?”

“Alright,” Sebastian says.

-

A week later, a text from Sebastian:

 **Sebastian (3:24 P.M.):** So when’s the wedding?

-

They all take the same plane but are seated across it due to buying tickets at different times, so Kurt doesn’t see Sebastian until the plane lands and they meet in the airport. Once they’re all together, they go out and find Rachel’s dads waiting for them.

(Kurt’s distracted, but he finds the way Rachel’s dads react to Brody hilarious and plans to tease Rachel and Brody about it sometime in the future.)

By the time they arrive at Kurt’s house it’s pretty late, but the light is still on in the living room. Rachel’s dads drop them off and Kurt and Sebastian have their luggage almost to the door before it opens and Burt comes hurtling out to grab Kurt in a huge bear hug.

Kurt presses his face into his dad’s shoulder, laughing, and feels better than he has in ages. When they finally part, he glances over at Sebastian--who’s staring at them with a distant, unfocused expression. Kurt realizes, chest tightening, that Sebastian’s probably never been hugged by his dad like that, probably never will be.

“Dad, this is Sebastian,” Kurt says. “Sebastian Smythe.”

Burt hesitates, examines Sebastian closely. “That Dalton kid?” he asks, suspicious. “The one who tried to slushie you and blinded Blaine?”

Sebastian flinches. “Yes, sir,” he says. Kurt gapes at him--he’s never heard Sebastian call anyone sir before. “But I’ve grown up since that.” He smiles at Kurt. “With the help of your son.”

“Kurt does seem to be very good at turning boys into men,” Burt says, a little wry and Kurt knows he’s thinking about Finn. His dad sighs, eyes Sebastian for a moment. “Well as long as Kurt vouches for you, you’re welcome here, I guess.”

“I do vouch for him,” Kurt chimes in. “You know that, dad.”

Burt looks between them, shurgs. “Come on in then, boys,” he says, and leads them inside.

-

The day of the wedding is clear and cold. Rachel and Brody come over early to get ready and Kurt and Rachel shoo their respective dates into another room as they get changed and put on make-up.

Kurt nervously examines himself in the mirror, checking for any wrinkles. He'd had his suit dry-cleaned yesterday but he wasn't sure how good of a job they did and was that a tear—

"Kurt," Rachel says, coming up behind him full of exasperation. "You look absolutely amazing. Come on, Brody and Sebastian are waiting downstairs with your dad."

Kurt takes one last look, then turns to Rachel who dressed to Kurt's exact specifications in a stunning red ball gown that will make her the envy of every woman attending (except for Santana, who has always had an amazing sense of personal fashion, in Kurt's opinion). Kurt's sure that Brody won't be able to take his eyes off her and plans to be smug about it all evening.

Kurt offers his arm and Rachel tucks it in her own with a giggle. They march down the stairs and out the door with as much pomp and circumstance as they can muster to find Burt, Brody, and Sebastian standing by a cab. All three turn when the door opens and Kurt enjoys the synchronized jaw drops when they all see him and Rachel. It's hard to contain his own when he sees what Sebastian's wearing.

Kurt has never really thought about Sebastian in formalwear, but now that he sees the dark grey suit Sebastian's in, it's hard to imagine why. The blazer and pants hug Sebastian's form so closely that Kurt imagines they were probably tailored, and the pinstripes accent the long legs and broad shoulders. His tie is skinny, dark gray, and the splash of a red rose in his jacket pocket adds unexpected color. It also, by coincidence, matches Kurt's bowtie almost exactly.

“You clean up well, darling,” Sebastian says, running a considering eye over Kurt. “Not bad at all.”

Kurt flushes, glances at his dad, who is pointedly looking in the other direction. Rachel and Brody are distracted, their heads bent low together as they talk. Kurt takes a moment to admire how good they look together--Brody has also gone with a classic look, sans tie, and he compliments Rachel’s bright pop of color nicely.

“Not going to return the compliment?” Sebastian asks, drawing Kurt’s attention back to him. He’s teasing, but there’s an uncertain cast to his face.

Kurt considers him. “You’ll do,” is all he says, but Sebastian lights up.

“Think I’ll catch any groomsman attention?” he teases.

Kurt scowls. “The only groomsman is Finn,” he snaps. “Unless you’re very persuasive, he’s decidedly straight.”

Sebastian holds up his hands, looks a little bemused. “Sorry. No joking about sleeping with your step-brother, I get it.”

Kurt wants to snap back how he doesn’t want Sebastian to joke about sleeping with anyone , let alone Finn, but his dad is calling them over and they’re jumbling into the car together. Kurt tucks himself into a corner and fumes quietly as Rachel, Brody and his dad make quiet conversation around them. Sebastian gives him several looks over the course of the drive but doesn’t try and talk to him.

 


	17. the world is ours if we want it

The wedding is lovely, though Kurt didn’t have a hand in planning it: Sebastian nudges Kurt when he notices Kurt crying after Schue and Ms. Pillsbury saying their vows, but when Kurt glances at him he doesn’t look teasing but amused, fond even.

“Keep it together, Hummel,” Sebastian mutters to him, passing over a handkerchief.

Kurt wipes his eyes, wonders where Sebastian found the handkerchief and the gentlemanly charm.

-

The reception is held in a small, modest hotel outside of Lima. They’ve already had the dinner and now various members of the New Directions have been performing so that people can dance.

Kurt watches Sam twirl Brittany on the dance floor next to the small brunette - Marley, Kurt’s pretty sure her name is - and that Kitty girl. They’re laughing, all of them.

“Weird, huh?” Mercedes said, taking a seat next to him. “Have you seen the rest of them?”

“They’re all so . . . happy,” Kurt says, a little bemused. “Do you remember being that happy in Glee?”

Mercedes sighs. “Oh, sometimes. Whenever we did a great group number or I got a really good solo. And there were times when we--banded together, and I felt like I had a family.” Mercedes looks out at the dancing students, shakes her head. “But they’re different, Kurt. I mean, we were happy together but sometimes our whole group just became . . . vicious. Like, remember that time we banded up against you and Sam because we thought you were cheating?”

“If you want an example of irony,” Kurt says, and Mercedes laughs.

“But you see what I mean, right? We loved each other, but sometimes we hated each other too. These guys though . . . they don’t have that.”

Kurt considers this. “They don’t have the competition,” he says. “I mean, it’s obvious they’re all talented and Blaine told me about their New Rachel competition--”

“I bet Rachel loved that,” Mercedes says, but with a smile.

Kurt rolls his eyes. “Wouldn’t shut up about it for _weeks_. But my point is that they’re not like we were, where half the time we were trying to boot each other out of solos. I guess we really couldn’t have had a different group, considering Rachel and I were in it. And you, of course,” he adds, bumping her shoulder.

“I was more of a diva than both of you put together,” Mercedes agrees, a smile in her eyes. “But you’re right, I think. I’ve seen them together, you know--for the Grease thing. They have fights sometimes but I think they’re always trying to help each other as much as they can.” She makes a face. “Well except for Kitty and Marley.”

“The Quinn and Rachel reboots?” Kurt asks and Mercedes nods with a laugh. “I guess some things don’t change.”

Mercedes leans into his shoulder and Kurt takes simple comfort in her presence: after so long with only Rachel and, after a time, Sebastian, it’s nice to have his friends surrounding him again. Time had faded his memory of their love for him--and his for them.

“I don’t think they’re better , though,” Mercedes murmurs. “Just different. We were pretty legendary, right?”

Kurt smiles. “Of course,” he says. “Fabulous to the extreme.” He watches as they dance, feels a little nostalgic for those days: when his worst problem was whether or not they’d make it to Nationals and what to wear to school the next day. He loves New York and his new life and he wouldn’t give it up for anything: but Kurt also thinks that despite the slushies and the bullying, there was something simpler about high school.

“They’ll be fantastic too,” Kurt says and Mercedes murmurs an agreement. He stands. “Come on, let’s dance,” he says, pulling her to her feet. “Can’t let the kids have all the fun, right?”

She twirls along with him to the dance floor, laughing, and Kurt feels the strange ache in his chest fade.

-

“Enjoying yourself, princess?” Sebastian asks when he and Kurt meet over the dessert table. There are three different kinds of cheesecake there, all of them delicious.

“Immensely,” Kurt says, smiling. “What about you? Not too bored at a New Directions party?”

“Does your teacher have any adult friends?” Sebastian asks, so immediate that Kurt thinks with amusement that he’s probably been wondering about it all day.

“Not really,” Kurt admits. “Mr. Schue’s pretty devoted to us. It’s a little creepy but also a little nice.” Quite like Mr. Schue himself, actually.

Sebastian shakes his head. “No teacher at Dalton would invite their students to their wedding,” he says, bemused.

Kurt remembers the Dalton teachers: unfailingly, distantly polite. He wasn’t a big fan of Mr. Schue’s teaching methods, but even Kurt preferred the warmth and absurdity of Schue to the cold distance of Dalton.

They’re interrupted by Puck, who throws an arm over Sebastian’s shoulders. “Gonna sing, Smythe?” he asks. “We need some new blood up there or Berry will hog the whole show.”

Sebastian makes a face. “I don’t think I’d be well-received,” he says. “Everybody here hates my guts, remember?”

“Not everybody,” Kurt reminds him, then thinks on it. “Well, most of the time, anyways,” he amends, smiling at Sebastian’s outrage.

“Just for that,” he says, “I’m going to sing.”

Kurt perks up a little. It’s been a while since he’s heard Sebastian sing, and last time, during Regionals, he’d been so angry that he hadn’t really listened. “Really?” he asks. “I thought you left the spotlight hogging to me?”

Sebastian laughs at him. “Well every once in a while I need to step in and crush your ego,” he teases. He turns to Puck. “Come on, Puckerman, you’re with me. Time to knock their socks off.”

“I’d rather knock off their panties,” Kurt hears Puck say before Sebastian drags him off.

Kurt rolls his eyes, makes his way onto the dance floor to where Rachel and Brody are entwined in each other despite the fact the music has stopped. Kurt makes a face at them and, as one unit, they make a face back. “You two are gross,” he declares.

“You’re just jealous I have a stud-muffin boyfriend,” Rachel asserts smugly. Brody looks pleased with himself and Kurt rolls his eyes again. Rachel gives him a side-eye. “Any luck with Sebastian?”

Kurt groans. “Don’t even ask,” he says.

Brody looks between them, wry. “I feel like I missed something,” he says. “This doesn’t have anything to do with Kurt and Sebastian’s giant sexual tension elephant in the room, does it?”

“Brody!” Rachel scolds as Kurt gapes at him. “We said we’d never discuss it!”

“There’s a sexual tension elephant?” Kurt asks, a little dazed.

Before Brody or Rachel can answer, there’s a tap on the microphone and Kurt’s attention is drawn to Sebastian, who’s on stage with Puck, Sam, and Artie. Blaine is blessedly absent--Kurt’s not sure how he’d feel about his ex singing with his new crush, but he’s certain it wouldn’t be at all good.

“I know most of you don’t have the best opinion of me,” Sebastian says. Kurt notices confusion amongst the younger generation of New Direction and smiles a little. “But I was hoping I could go the traditional show choir route and win your affection through song.” There’s a ripple of laughter throughout the crowd and Kurt smiles to see the happiness in Sebastian’s face. “Now grab your partner and a one, two, three, four--”

A light, fun beat starts and Sebastian twirls, dipping the microphone as he sings, _“You’re so delicious, you’re so soft, sweet on the tip of my tongue.”_

Kurt grabs Rachel’s hands and spins her away from Brody, laughing madly at the pout on Brody’s face. As Sebastian sings, _“You make my heart beat faster,”_ Brody reaches in and, to Kurt’s surprise, grabs Kurt round the waist, soundly dipping him and laughing.

When they come up, Rachel throws herself at them, giggling, and for a moment they spin round together, completely out of time and enjoying it. _“You turn me over, ‘till I can’t control myself.,”_

Kurt’s suddenly pulled away from Brody and Rachel by Mercedes, who he shimmies with for mere moments before Santana claims him, and suddenly he’s being passed off between all of his New Directions friends--and he can see, between gasps and twirls, that the rest of them are doing the same, that no one has the same partner for long. It’s an orgy of dance, and Kurt laughs at the delight of it, remembers suddenly why these people were home to him for so long.

 _“It’s the way you swell, slow, pushing right out of your seams,”_ Sebastian sings. As he spins with Tina, he catches sight of Sebastian, whose gaze is fixed on Kurt even as he continues to sing, _“It’s the way you smile, baby, when you’ve got me on my knees.”_

He winks at Kurt for good measure and Kurt flushes, looks away so that he can focus on dancing with one of the new members--Marley, he thinks her name is: the innocent, less competitive version of Rachel Berry. Even so, she’s grinning at him slyly, looking between Kurt and the stage, and Kurt flush deepens that someone who doesn’t know him at all--who he’s never even spoken to--can realize his feelings so easily. Thankfully, he’s passed off to Finn soon after and Marley disappears into the crowd of bodies on the dance floor.

Finn grins down at him and Kurt realizes in between one playful dip and the next that Finn is happy in Lima in a way that neither Rachel or Kurt could be--that Lima suits Finn, makes him better. It’s then that he realizes that Rachel and Finn will never get back together--that though they may have relationships in the future, it will always end, and end badly.

He wants to say something to Finn, because he’s noticed the way Finn has spent the evening staring at Rachel and Brody, but he’s grabbed by Brittany and it’s too late. He vows to speak to Finn later as he attempts to follow Brittany’s complex dance moves.

Once again, his eye is caught by Sebastian, who’s shimmying on the stage with Puck. They look so ridiculous next to each other that Kurt has to laugh and Sebastian’s eyes are immediately drawn to him, as if he could hear it above the din--impossible, of course, but--

Sebastian smiles at him, blows him a kiss as he finishes, _“Make me a liar, one big disaster, you make my heart beat faster,”_ and the music cuts off with a snap.

There’s a pause as everyone catches their breath and then catcalls and applause echo in the ballroom. Sebastian bows, gestures to Puck and Artie and Sam, who were all on back-up vocals, and they all bow as well, grinning.

“And now I pass the baton to the more than willing Rachel Berry,” Sebastian announces in the microphone, to good-natured groans. When Rachel hurries forward, he lets her have the stage and hurries into the crowd, making a straight path to Kurt.

-

It’s easy enough to avoid Blaine in the crowd, but after an hour Kurt looks over to see Blaine at his elbow, punch in his hand. Kurt tenses on reflex, forces himself to relax.

“Can we talk?” Blaine asks.

Kurt wants to say no, that they’ve had enough conversations in the past months to last him a lifetime but--well, this is Blaine. The first person to believe in him, support him--love him. Kurt’s still a little hurt and a lot angry, but it doesn’t change the fact that Blaine is still incredibly important to him.

“Sure,” he says, and follows Blaine out of the reception area, into one of the hallways. It’s deserted and blessedly quiet.

For a moment, they stare at each other, awkward. Blaine giggles a little and Kurt can’t help but chuckle too--before long they’re both outright laughing.

“I’m sorry,” Blaine gasps. “It’s just--”

“--so _weird_ ,” Kurt finishes for him, getting control of himself. He smiles. “I get it.”

Blaine’s smile is a little wistful. “It’s good to see you laugh,” he says. “I was a little worried I’d never see it again.”

Kurt bites his lip. “I want us to be friends, Blaine,” he says. Blaine’s eyes widen. “I’m still--hurt by what happened and I don’t think I can go back to our relationship. But you’re my friend--my best friend--and honestly? I miss you.”

Blaine’s face softens with affection, understanding. Kurt remembers why Blaine is so easy to love. “Me too,” Blaine murmurs. “Friends, then?” He holds out an uncertain hand.

Kurt rolls his eyes, draws Blaine into a tight, warm hug. Blaine is tense for a moment before he relaxes, boneless, into Kurt’s hold, tucking his face into Kurt’s shoulder like always. For a moment, Kurt wonders what it would be like to go back to this, to let Blaine have his heart again, for them to rise anew.

“Kurt? I saw you go out--”

Kurt jerks away from Blaine, whirls to see Sebastian in the doorway, staring at them. His eyes are unreadable, his mouth a hard line.

“Sebastian,” Kurt says, a little breathless because he knows what Sebastian will think, what it looks like and--

“Sorry to interrupt,” Sebastian says, fake smiling. Blaine is looking between them with curiosity, unaware of Kurt’s increasing panic. “I’ll just leave you two lovebirds alone.”

“Sebastian, that’s not--” Kurt starts, but Sebastian closes the door before Kurt can finish. Kurt stares at the dark wood, uncomprehending. “Shit,” he mutters, running a hand through his hair, uncaring of how it might look. “ _Shit_ \--”

“Kurt,” Blaine says, touching Kurt’s elbow. “It’s alright--”

“No!” Kurt cries. “No, it’s not, Sebastian--He thinks--” Kurt swallows around the bile rising in his throat.

It shouldn’t matter what Sebastian thinks. Kurt knows that he and Sebastian will never be anything, that Sebastian can never handle the relationship Kurt needs--or vice versa. But he doesn’t want Sebastian to think he’s back with Blaine, that he just forgot months of heartache. He doesn’t want Sebastian to think he’s in love with Blaine.

Kurt chokes on a bitter laugh. He is all kinds of pathetic.

“You like Sebastian, don’t you?”

Kurt whirls on Blaine, who’s staring at him with wide, calm eyes. In the absence of distress or anger, Kurt deflates. “Yes,” he admits quietly. “I really do.”

To Kurt’s surprise, Blaine laughs a little. “Who’d have seen that coming, huh?”

Kurt smiles at him. “You’re not angry?” he asks, to make certain.

“I wish you didn’t like him,” Blaine admits, and though his honesty makes Kurt a little uncomfortable, he’s happy that they can be candid with each other. “It means that it’s really over for us. And I don’t know that he can make you happy.” Blaine’s nose wrinkles. “But that wouldn’t matter if you really like him.”

“I do really like him,” Kurt says again, more freely. His chest feels tight. “But it would never work out between us. You know what he’s like.”

Blaine sighs, reaches out to take Kurt’s hands. His fingers are warm where they wrap around Kurt’s, palms large, reassuring. Kurt takes a deep breath, steadies himself in Blaine’s grasp.

“I want you to be happy, Kurt,” Blaine says, so earnest. “I really don’t know if Sebastian can make you happy, but if you think he can--then you need to go for it. Tell him how you feel, if you haven’t already. Make him look at you.” Blaine releases one of Kurt’s hands, brushes his fingers over Kurt’s cheek with a tenderness that Kurt has missed so dearly. “It worked for me, didn’t it?”

Kurt smiles at him through a haze of tears. “I was already in love with you, nitwit,” he says. “You just took your time catching up.”

Blaine leans up on his tip-toes to press a kiss to Kurt’s forehead. “I love you,” he says. “No matter who we’re with or what happens, that will never change. Okay?”

“Okay,” Kurt says, then-- “I love you, too.”

Blaine’s smile is bright, wide, unexpected. “Thank you,” he says. “For forgiving me. I don’t know what I did to deserve someone like you in my life, but thank you.”

Kurt pulls Blaine into another hug, because he feels, suddenly, that Blaine has had too few of them in the last months. In his hurt, his anger, he’d forgotten how few friends Blaine has, how little love there is in his life. Not again , he vows. Blaine hurt him, but he’s Kurt’s best friend, and Kurt won’t leave him on his own.

Blaine pulls Kurt back to the ballroom. “Come on,” he says, suddenly mischievous. “Let’s find your Prince Charming.”

 


	18. there's no turning back now

Inside, couples are dancing together. Kurt searches for Sebastian, finds him nursing a punch near the food table. He pulls away from Blaine, leans down to whisper in his ear, “We’ll talk later, okay?”

Blaine nods, watches as Kurt hurries to Sebastian. As Kurt approaches, Sebastian looks up--and something flickers in his expression, a kind of surprise or bitterness.

“Not off smooching with your hubby?” he snipes as Kurt comes to his side. “I would’ve thought you lovebirds would be attached at the lips now that you’ve reconciled.”

Kurt grabs Sebastian’s hand. Sebastian startles at the touch badly enough to almost spill his punch, but Kurt ignores it--instead, he starts pulling Sebastian to the dance floor with a determination that surprises even him.

“Excuse me, princess,” Sebastian says, resisting. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“We’re going to dance,” Kurt says, pulling harder. He’s a little gratified when Sebastian allows himself to be pulled. “And have a little chat.”

On stage, Tina is getting ready to perform. Behind her, the band strikes up a slow, drifting melody as Kurt and Sebastian walk onto the dance floor. Kurt pauses when he realizes this is a slow song and glances at Sebastian, a little uneasy. Sebastian’s expression is unreadable, but he complies readily enough when Kurt reaches for his hand.

“Sorry,” Kurt mutters as he almost steps on Sebastian’s toes as they settle in, bodies close.

Sebastian smiles slightly. “No problem, darling.”

Tina starts to sing: _“I’ve been roaming around, always look down at all I see . . . .”_

Kurt shivers a little, doesn’t dare glance at Sebastian. Instead he takes a deep breath and murmurs in Sebastian’s ear, “It wasn’t what you think, with Blaine. We were just talking.” He pauses, feels the need to emphasize, “We’re just friends. We’re going to continue just being friends.”

Sebastian’s quiet for a long moment and all Kurt can hear is Tina’s voice rising on, _“You know that I could use somebody, you know that I could use somebody . . . .”_

“You could go back to him, you know,” Sebastian says finally. “No one would think worse of you for it.”

Kurt’s heart drops. “Is that what you think I want?” he asks. “To be back with Blaine?”

Sebastian sighs. As close as they are, it’s easy to feel the movement of his chest, the whoosh of breath over Kurt’s hair. “You guys were in love, Kurt,” he says. “And I know you still love him--”

“As a friend,” Kurt corrects.

“Maybe,” Sebastian says. “But that doesn’t mean that you won’t love him like that again, does it?”

Kurt frowns, glances up to see Sebastian staring up at the stage, not at him. Tina sings, _“You know that I could use somebody, someone like you.”_

“I don’t know,” Kurt says, because he has to be honest. “But right now, I don’t think that will happen.” Sebastian is so close and so warm. Kurt’s heart thuds against his ribcage. “I don’t want Blaine like that, Sebastian. Not anymore.” He swallows around a lump in his throat, forces himself to add, because he thinks he can see where this is going, “I wouldn’t mind if you wanted to pursue him, you know.”

Sebastian whips his head down, stares at Kurt with an open, incredulous expression. “ _What_?” he says, loud enough to draw looks from the couples near them. “Of course I don’t!”

Kurt bites his lip. Their faces as close like this, staring into each other’s eyes, and it’s hard to stay focused on their conversation as he says, “You’ve never made a secret of wanting Blaine, Sebastian. And we’re not together, you don’t need to worry about me . . . getting in your way.”

Sebastian’s expression hardens. “If you think I’d still fuck him after what he did to you,” he says, “then you don’t know me at all .” He tries to break away from Kurt’s hold, shoulders tense. Kurt holds on, grasps him closer.

“That’s all in the past, Sebastian,” Kurt says. “If you really wanted--”

“Kurt,” Sebastian says, a little gentler now. “You may be over it and you may have forgiven him, but I remember what you were like, okay? Trust me when I say that Blaine Anderson isn’t getting forgiveness from me as easily as he got it from you.” Kurt must still look confused because Sebastian sighs, impatient. “We’re friends, aren’t we? I’m not going to go after a guy who put you through hell.”

Kurt’s chest is very warm and his fingertips are tingling. Sebastian’s putting him first, Kurt realizes. Sebastian cares more about their friendship than fucking a guy. He doesn’t want to sleep with Blaine, who wanted so ardently because he hurt Kurt .

On stage, Tina sings, _“I hope it’s going to make you notice, I hope it’s going to make you notice, someone like me,”_ and before Kurt can realize what he’s doing, he leans up and kisses Sebastian in front all of his closest friends.

For a moment, Kurt revels in the soft, surprised warmth of Sebastian’s mouth--then he registers what he’s doing, the sudden, shocked silence around them. He rips himself away, stumbles backward from Sebastian, who’s staring at him, wide-eyed as the rest of the people surrounding them. On stage, Tina’s gaping at the two of them, song forgotten.

It’s hard to breathe. Kurt’s shaking and he realizes that he starts running before he realizes that he needs to get out of there.

-

“Kurt!”

Kurt doesn’t stop, doesn’t even slow down. He’s gasping around tears as he runs, and he wonders why he always ends up like this at formal occasions. He stumbles a bit around a corner and that’s when Sebastian--who must have been closer behind him than Kurt had thought--manages to catch him at the elbow.

“Kurt,” he insists, fingers digging in, forcing Kurt to stop. Kurt freezes, panting. “Will you look at me, damn it--”

“Just leave me alone, Sebastian,” Kurt says, more weary than anything.

“You--” Sebastian hisses out a huge rush of breath, then another. “You kissed me,” he says, calmer now. “Kurt, you _kissed_ me--”

“It was just a kiss,” Kurt says, too quick. “It didn’t mean anything.”

Kurt’s trembling a little now because it did mean something, of course it did, but if Sebastian knows that, if he figures it out, then their friendship is over and Kurt will lose the little piece of Sebastian he had.

“Kurt, look at me,” Sebastian says, so calm and even that Kurt’s compelled to turn and meet Sebastian’s eyes. He recoils--Sebastian’s voice may be calm, but his eyes spark with intensity, completely focused on Kurt. “It meant something,” Sebastian says, his hand softening at Kurt’s elbow. “We both know it did.”

Kurt helplessly takes in the cut of Sebastian’s cheekbones, the gleam of green in his eyes. _I think I love you,_ he wants to say, but he knows Sebastian will run. Instead he breaks out of Sebastian’s grip, whirls away from him so that Sebastian won’t see the tears.

“I don’t know what you’re on about,” he says, proud of how even he sounds, how calm. “It was just a little kiss between friends. Happens all the time.”

“So if I’d been Blaine,” Sebastian says, and Kurt’s gratified to hear the fury in his voice. If Sebastian’s angry he’ll believe Kurt more readily. “You would’ve still kissed me?”

Kurt pauses, trembling. You don’t want to lose him, he reminds himself even as a voice whispers that this answer will make Sebastian leave him more quickly than a confession of love--

“Yes,” Kurt lies.

There’s a long moment of silence.

“I see,” Sebastian says, words clipped. Kurt winces. “You know what, Kurt? I’m fucking done with this.”

Kurt whirls around in shock to see Sebastian turning as well, to head back down the hall, back to the wedding. Kurt’s fingers are on Sebastian’s shoulder before he realizes what he’s doing.

“Wait,” he cries, a little desperate because he’s doing this to keep Sebastian not drive him away. “Sebastian--”

Sebastian knocks Kurt’s hand off his shoulder, turns on him with such fury that Kurt recoils out of instinct. Sebastian sees this and his fury ebbs a little, but it’s still there in his eyes, a persistent spark.

His eyes search Kurt’s face and something he sees there makes him soften a little. “What am I to you, Kurt?” he asks.

Kurt shuffles nervously. “A friend,” he says. “One of my closest, I’d think.” He laughs, high-pitched and a little hysterical. “Who’d have thought that a year ago, huh?”

“That’s all we are then,” Sebastian says, anger returning. “Friends. Just friends?”

“Of course,” Kurt says, his anxiety softening into confusion.

That’s all Sebastian wants, isn’t it? To be just friends. And even if he’s attracted to Kurt--which Kurt knows is a possibility now, after the party and that dance, even if he still doesn’t quite believe it--it’d only be friends having sex. Sebastian doesn’t want a relationship: he’s told Kurt as much a dozen times over. Sebastian thinks relationships are a monotony, traps to enslave good-looking young men to one person instead of letting them sow their seeds as they please.

Sebastian laughs, the sounds so raw-edged and weary that Kurt flinches away from it. “Just friends,” he repeats, rubbing a hand along his face. “God, what was I even thinking?” When he meets Kurt’s eyes again, Kurt is struck by the sadness there. “Never mind, Kurt. Forget I said anything.” He turns to go again, shoulders slumped.

Kurt reaches for him again. Sebastian stops but doesn’t turn. “Sebastian,” Kurt asks, soft, wondering, hope rising. “What’s the matter?”

A long pause. Kurt almost wonders if Sebastian’s going to say anything when he whirls back on Kurt, boxing him in against a nearby wall. Despite the situation and the fury in Sebastian’s face, Kurt can’t quite stop the spark up his spine.

“You’re fucking infuriating , that’s what’s the matter,” Sebastian snaps, nose brushing Kurt’s. “Every time I think you want something more you pull something like this and we’re stuck back on just friends .”

Kurt’s heart flutters in his throat. “Sebastian,” he says. He swallows, hard, forces himself to continue, “Sebastian, that’s all you want, isn’t it?”

There’s a long silence as Sebastian takes in Kurt’s face, eyes wide. Suddenly the tension in him releases and he slumps over Kurt’s body, chuckling.

“Oh my _God_ ,” he says. “You still think--My God, you must be the most oblivious idiot to walk the Earth.”

Kurt bristles. “I am quite perceptive, thank you,” he says with a sniff. “Blaine’s worse--I had to tell him I liked him to his face before he realized anything and I’m not exactly subtle.”

Sebastian makes a face. “Can we not talk about Blaine right now, please?” he asks. Kurt glares up at him and Sebastian smiles. “Besides, you’re quite as bad as he is.” Before Kurt realizes what’s happening, Sebastian leans down, brushes a kiss over Kurt’s mouth. When he pulls back, his expression is closed off but his eyes are searching, vulnerable. “Kurt Hummel,” he says. “You great big oblivious idiot: I think you’re amazing and ridiculous and I like you.” Sebastian takes a deep breath, adds, “And I may even be falling in love with you.”

Kurt finds it difficult to breathe all the sudden.

Sebastian stares at him, waits for him to talk. Kurt can’t find the words, the breath to utter them: he’s too shocked. He’d imagined what Sebastian would look like if Kurt confessed to him, how Sebastian would react, but he’d never imagined, even in his wildest dreams, that Sebastian would be the one to . . ..

“Kurt,” Sebastian says, both amused and frustrated. “I don’t mean to hurry you, darling, but your continued silence is making me a little anxious.”

Kurt forces himself to meet Sebastian’s gaze. “You mean it?” he asks, though he’d meant to say something else. Kurt’s even surprised by the tremulous anxiety in his voice, the way it shakes: Sebastian’s expression softens immediately in response. “But you--”

“I know what I’ve been like,” Sebastian says. “After the party and with everything else. I was just . . . . I was scared, Kurt. When we were together at the party I realized that I might feel something more for you and that scared me to death.” He shrugs. “So I pushed you away. But seeing you with Adam and Blaine, that reminded me that unless I say something it’s entirely possible someone else will sweep you off your feet. And I couldn’t--handle that.”

Kurt frowns. “So this is just some jealousy thing?” he snaps, defensive. “You want me so no one else can have me?”

Sebastian’s mouth firms. “Kurt,” he says. “In the past few months you’ve put up with my bullshit, taken care of me, and seen me at my most embarrassing and weak moments without any--judgement or dismissal. It’s true that I realized I wanted to be with you because I wasn’t willing to see you with other people. But it’s also true that I’m not--good at relationships, and that I haven’t wanted to be in one for a long time.” Kurt’s body shakes in fine, minute tremors. Sebastian folds his hands over Kurt’s upper arms, lowers his head so that they’re eye-level. “But with you, I’m willing. More than willing--desperate actually. Sickeningly so.” Sebastian takes a deep breath. “You’re amazing, Kurt Hummel, and I want you to be my boyfriend.” He smirks, a sudden flash of the Sebastian Kurt knows so well reappearing: “Let’s go steady, darling.”

“You can’t change your mind, Sebastian,” Kurt says, desperate suddenly. “You can’t tell me this today and then say something different tomorrow. I won’t be able to handle that.”

Sebastian leans in to kiss him. “I won’t,” he promises. “I’m not going to change my mind, Kurt. I want you, for as long as you’ll have me.”

Kurt stares at him, soaks in his sincerity. “Oh my God,” he whispers, then grasps Sebastian’s head and pulls him in for another deep kiss.

“Kurt,” Sebastian tries to say between kisses. Kurt barely lets his mouth go long enough to form the words, but continues, “Kurt, is this--”

“Yes,” Kurt says. “Yes, of course you dimwit, I’ve been pining after you for _weeks_.”

Sebastian lights up and Kurt needs to kiss him again--and he does, reveling in the fact that he can without retribution or terror. Sebastian wants him. Sebastian wants him.

“Bedroom,” Kurt demands. Sebastian pulls away, stares down at him with confusion. “Bedroom, right _now_ \--”

“Kurt, we don’t have to rush it,” Sebastian says, softening a little. Kurt pulls him into a deep, slick kiss and when they part Sebastian’s eyes are unfocused. Kurt smirks.

“ _Bed_ room,” he says again and this time Sebastian doesn’t protest.

 


	19. baby let me ease the ache, the ache

They tumble into bed in a tangle of limbs, not so much kissing as panting into each other’s mouths. Sebastian’s hands are everywhere--Kurt’s hair, his back, his waist. Kurt arches up into them, overheated, aching for--

“Kurt,” Sebastian breathes against Kurt’s mouth. “Clothes, _now_.”

Kurt smiles. “You jump, I jump,” he says and Sebastian huffs a laugh even as his hands frantically scramble at the buttons on Kurt’s dress shirt. Kurt is a little steadier on Sebastian’s buttons, but his hands are shaking--he can see a distinct tremble, even in the dim light of the room.

Sebastian makes a noise of frustration as Kurt’s buttons refuse to cooperate and then, to Kurt’s astonishment, proceeds to pull until the buttons all pop off, one by one, and the shirt hangs loose on Kurt’s chest. Kurt pauses on a button to give Sebastian an incredulous look--because, really, that shirt was expensive and getting it re-buttoned is going to be a bitch--but Sebastian’s eyes are focused on Kurt’s chest. Or, more specifically, his undershirt.

“How many layers are you wearing, darling?” Sebastian groans, despairing.

Kurt tucks his face into Sebastian’s neck and giggles helplessly. Sebastian’s hands settle on his lower back and Kurt feels a kiss pressed into his hair.

“Come on, sweetheart,” Sebastian says, a smile in his voice. “I thought we were having hot, animal, man-on-man sex here.”

“Only if you promise to give up the popped collar look,” Kurt says, lifting his head to meet Sebastian’s amused gaze.

Sebastian considers it. “I suppose I can put it in the closet for now,” he decides. “Until it comes back into style.”

Kurt presses a kiss to the corner of Sebastian’s mouth. “Oh, honey,” he says. “It never was _in_ style.”

The world tilts and Kurt is suddenly on his back, Sebastian towering over him, tucked in between Kurt’s thighs. The new position is enough to make Kurt breathless--the teasing, dark look in Sebastian’s eyes makes him even more so, and the hot, itchy feeling on his skin that abated during their banter comes back full flood.

“Sebastian,” Kurt says, but Sebastian dips down and for a moment they kiss--languid, slick, devouring each other. Kurt strains up against the solidity of Sebastian’s body, desperate for purchase, but only finds a frustrating lack of friction. He groans against Sebastian’s mouth and Sebastian pulls away.

“Clothes, remember?” Sebastian says and Kurt glares at him. Sebastian grins, hurriedly undoes the buttons Kurt missed and slips his shirt off. Kurt takes in the gleam of sweat on Sebastian’s chest--well-defined and covered with a light dusting of hair with tight, ridged hip bones that Kurt just wants to _lick_ \--and swallows heavily.

“Sit up, darling,” Sebastian says and Kurt leans up so that he can draw off Kurt’s undershirt. Kurt feels a little cold and exposed without his shirts, but the look in Sebastian’s eyes--dark, predatory in its intensity--warms him again. Kurt licks his lips and Sebastian follows the movement of his tongue with a single-minded focus.

“Sebastian,” Kurt says, a little desperate, “I think it’s time I returned the favor, don’t you think?” He sweeps his eyes downward, his meaning clear.

Sebastian groans. “You’re going to be the death of me,” he says.

Kurt rolls his eyes, grasps Sebastian’s hips and, in another move taught to him at the Cheerios, flips them over so that he’s straddling Sebastian instead. Sebastian stares up at him, spread out on the bed, and Kurt grins, bends down for a short, affectionate kiss before he slides down Sebastian’s body. He fumbles with the jeans--it’s been a while and he’s never had as much practice as Sebastian anyway--but manages to pull out Sebastian’s cock with little effort. His body gives an interested twitch at the sight of it--thick, purpling at the tip, uncut--and Kurt can feel his cock swelling against the seam of his pants.

He lowers his mouth and gently sucks at Sebastian’s balls, rolling them on his tongue. Sebastian groans, reaches down to grip Kurt’s hair tightly, pulling it through his fingers. Kurt shivers a little and sucks harder, then tongues at the slick area behind Sebastian’s balls, Sebastian’s dress pants sliding further down his knees.

“Kurt,” Sebastian moans, hips twitching. “Kurt, _please_ \--”

Kurt leans away, grins up at Sebastian’s dismayed expression. “You said the magic word,” he purrs and as he bends back down he catches a glimpse of Sebastian’s grin.

Kurt learned a lot about himself over his time with Blaine, but perhaps the most important thing is: he likes giving head. Kurt remembers thinking, pre-sex, that he wouldn’t: the idea of someone shoving their cock down his throat had never really appealed to him, and he’d been hesitant during the first time with Blaine. Once he was actually there, he found his opinion changing: cocks smelled and tasted a little strange, but he once got used to it, having someone fall to pieces because of Kurt’s mouth and tongue was ridiculously hot.

So Kurt isn’t surprised that it only takes a few minutes of sliding his mouth over Sebastian’s cock, tonguing at the bulging vein on the underside, for his own dick to be fully hard, straining up against the confines of Kurt’s pants. Kurt presses his hips against the bed for friction and he knows the vibration of his mouth around Sebastian’s cock will make him crazy.

“Kurt, fuck--” Sebastian’s hand twist in Kurt’s hair and Kurt moans again, longer and louder this time. Sebastian bucks his hips and he’s thrusting into Kurt’s mouth now, going down as far as Kurt can take him without choking--even teasing the limit a little when he can, cockhead sliding just a bit down Kurt’s throat before he retreats. Kurt knows that he’ll be hoarse tonight and tomorrow, revels in it.

It feels like too soon when Sebastian tugs on his hair, says, “Kurt, get off, I’m so close--” Kurt sucks harder because he wants Sebastian to come, down his throat, all over him-- “Kurt, not like this, come on ,” Sebastian insists, firmly pulling Kurt away. Kurt whines, ragged at the edges, and Sebastian kisses him with hot, wet desperation.

“Christ, can I fuck you?” he asks, panting. “Please?”

Kurt hesitates. “It’s been a while,” he admits, a little shy. “We’ll have to go slow.” Sebastian groans.

“You’re going to be the _death_ of me,” he says again. “Look, I have some lube and condoms in my bag, I’ll just--”

He scrambles off the bed, shucks his pants and underwear off. Kurt relaxes against the covers, watches the curve of Sebastian’s ass, the bob of his hard cock, with heated interest. As Sebastian ducks into the bathroom, Kurt sighs and shimmies out of the rest of his clothes, spreading out naked.

Sebastian pauses as he comes back into the room, eyes tracing Kurt’s outline. There’s heat there, but Kurt notices the fondness too and he shivers.

“I didn’t think this would happen again,” Sebastian says as he climbs back onto the bed, into Kurt’s space.

“Neither did I,” Kurt admits. He smiles up at Sebastian, horny and giddy and happy, beyond anything. “I’m glad it is though.”

Sebastian stares down at him and then presses Kurt into a long, filthy kiss that leaves Kurt gasping and wanting at the end of it. “Let me guess,” Kurt says when they resurface, panting a little, “I’m going to be the death of you?”

“But what a death it’ll be,” Sebastian grins and then he’s peppering Kurt with kisses again and Kurt’s lost in the sensation.

Sebastian fumbles around with the lube as he kisses down Kurt’s chest. When he catches Kurt’s nipple in his mouth, Kurt gasps, arches up into the touch, his hands flying to Sebastian’s head. Sebastian mouths at it for a moment then gently bites down--Kurt almost screams, hips jerking, hands scrambling for purchase amidst Sebastian’s hair.

“Like that, darling?” Sebastian asks, grinning up at him. “I’ll have to remember that.”

“Sebastian Smythe, will you get your shit together and fuck me already?” Kurt snaps, beside himself with arousal and frustration. Sebastian presses a soft kiss to Kurt’s stomach, right above his belly-button.

“As you command,” he says and reaches down to press lube-slicked fingers to Kurt’s hole. Kurt’s hips jerk and Sebastian’s finger slides in--the feeling so full and alien that for a moment Kurt forgets to adjust, gasps around the breach of it. Then he remembers to relax, that it’s just one finger, and Sebastian slides in smoothly to the knuckle.

“How the fuck are you so tight,” Sebastian mutters against Kurt’s stomach, breathing heavy and wet there as he thrusts his finger in and out.

“I didn’t bottom often,” Kurt admits between gasps. Sebastian groans, adds another finger. Kurt feels the burn of pain before he it sweetens into pleasure, and his cock jumps to attention. “Sebastian, please--”

“Hold on, darling,” Sebastian says, adjusting his wrist a little and then sliding his fingers into Kurt’s hole forcefully, all the way to the third knuckle. Kurt keens, hips jerking, feet scrambling for purchase against the smooth bedspread.

Sebastian adds a third finger and lowers his head to Kurt’s cock, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses to it. Kurt’s shaking and it would be only too easy for him to come just from this, just from Sebastian’s fingers and mouth, but he doesn’t want that, he wants--

“Sebastian,” he gasps. “Sebastian, I’m ready, please--”

“Sweetheart,” Sebastian says, lifting his head. “Are you--”

“I swear to God, Sebastian--” Kurt spits and Sebastian laughs, slides his fingers out of Kurt’s hole with a slick pop. Kurt feels empty without them, waits impatiently as Sebastian slides a condom over his cock, slicks it up. “Sebastian,” he demands again, when Sebastian takes his time and Sebastian grins down at him.

“I never knew you’d be so cock-hungry, darling,” he says. “But I’m happy to oblige you.”

He shifts forward, aligns himself with Kurt’s hole. Kurt can feel the heat pressing against the wrinkled skin there, the blunt cockhead waiting to breach his ring of muscles. Unwittingly, he holds his breath.

Sebastian kisses Kurt as he starts to slide in and it’s easier to focus on Sebastian’s taste than the pain-pleasure burn of being so completely filled. Sebastian goes slow, inch by inch, but it’s been a while and Kurt’s never had a chance to get used to the sensation, so it takes long moments for the pain to settle, blossom into pure pleasure.

Kurt feels Sebastian’s balls brush his ass. Sebastian’s forehead is pressed against his own and Sebastian pants against Kurt’s mouth. “Alright?” he whispers, voice wrecked. When Kurt doesn’t answer, he groans, says, “Kurt, are you alright because I--”

“Move,” Kurt says against Sebastian’s lips and Sebastian needs no further encouragement.

Sebastian’s thrusts are tentative at first and then quickly turn quick, forceful--Kurt cries out when Sebastian brushes his prostrate, tingles from the pleasure of it. It takes Sebastian a couple more tries to find it again, but when he does he hits it with every thrust. Kurt tucks his legs around the back of Sebastian’s knees and his hands scramble for purchase along Sebastian’s shoulders, fingernails digging in as Sebastian fucks him harder, cock pistoning into Kurt’s hole.

Sebastian's free hand finds Kurt’s cock and Kurt keens when his fingers wrap around it. He doesn’t want this to end, doesn’t ever want it to end, but the combination of Sebastian’s thrusts against his prostate and Sebastian’s fingers, tight and hot around his cock, are more than enough to send him over the end, spiraling into one of the most blissful orgasms he’s ever had.

Kurt has the vague awareness of Sebastian fucking him through his orgasm, but he can’t really focus on anything until Sebastian’s thrusts pick up speed, gain a sort of desperation. Kurt’s still tingling from the afterglow and the sensitivity is starting to set in, so Sebastian’s thrusts are almost painful now. He cries out as Sebastian goes particularly deep and Sebastian shudders against him as he comes, moaning Kurt’s name.

Sebastian collapses on top of Kurt and they lay together like that for a while, breathing. Kurt would be more than willing to lay there for hours more except for a small detail--

“Sebastian,” he mutters. “Can you get off of me? I’m covered in come, I need to wash it off.”

Sebastian groans but flips off of Kurt. As Kurt stands, wobbly-legged, he grins up at him. “I like you covered in come,” he purrs. Despite everything that they’ve already done together, Kurt still blushes, and Sebastian laughs. “Hurry back, darling,” he says. “We’ve still got cuddle time to do.”

Kurt hurries into the bathroom, smoothes off the come with a wet rag. He stares at himself in the mirror, takes in the love bites on his chest, neck, the healthy flush to his face. He looks properly fucked, he thinks and his flush deepens.

When Kurt comes back out, Sebastian is already under the covers of the bed, eyes closed. Kurt softens his step but one of Sebastian’s eyes pop open anyways. “There you are,” he mutters. “Hurry up, it’s getting cold.”

Kurt slides in under the covers with him and they curl in together. Kurt stares at Sebastian’s face, a bit wondering.

“You’ll still like me tomorrow, won’t you?” he asks before he can stop himself. “This won’t be like--” he stops, swallows.

Sebastian’s eyes open. “Kurt, I know I haven’t been very constant,” he says, tired but affectionate. “I was being stupid. But I promise I’ll still like you in the morning.” He leans forward to kiss Kurt. “And the morning after that, and the morning after that . . . .”

Kurt smiles into the kiss, watches Sebastian drift into sleep before he allows himself to.

-

Kurt wakes that morning to dizzying sense of deja vu and a bit of panic when he reaches over and finds Sebastian’s side of the bed empty. Before he can get truly anxious, Sebastian leans over him, smiling, and presses a kiss to his mouth.

“Good morning, Kurt,” he says. “I still like you.”

-

It’s Saturday morning days later and the sky outside is softened by snow, silver-gray. Kurt’s in the kitchen making tea, singing softly along with one of Rachel’s endless iTunes playlists.

_“Taking over this town, we don’t worry . . . .”_

Arms around his waist, a sharp chin slotting neat and easy in the curve of his shoulder. Sebastian presses a smile to the space behind Kurt’s ear.

“Tea?” he asks.

“It’s good for you,” Kurt says, trying to concentrate on pouring the hot water. All he can focus on is the point where Sebastian’s lips meet his skin. “Better than coffee anyway.”

“Ah, but the caffeine gives me such a rush,” Sebastian says. He tilts his head _. “Howling ghosts they reappear,”_ he sings, _“Mountains that are stuck with fear. You’re a king and I’m a lionheart . . . .”_

“It was too quiet,” Kurt breaks in over an instrumental break. “Rachel has thousands of playlists, I just picked one at random.”

“Good song,” Sebastian says, and then quiets as Kurt stirs honey into their tea.

Kurt turns in the curve of Sebastian’s arm once he’s done and meets his eyes. It’s amazing for him still, to see the love hanging in the curve of Sebastian’s mouth, the warmth in his eyes. Kurt still isn’t sure he can trust it.

_“Though far away, though far away, though far away . . . We’re here to stay, we’re here to stay, we’re here to stay . . . .”_

They kiss and the world goes syrupy-slow: Kurt revels in the taste and softness of Sebastian’s mouth, the curve of a smile he feels tucked in against his own like a secret. When they withdraw Kurt tucks his head into Sebastian’s neck and breathes him in. Sebastian strokes his back, hands warm through the cotton of Kurt’s shirt.

“You okay, darling?” he asks.

Kurt smiles, presses kisses to Sebastian’s neck. “I’m fine,” he says as he pulls away. “It’s just been a long time since I was this happy, that’s all.”

Sebastian’s answering smile is a sunbeam through dark clouds: brilliant, lovely. He kisses Kurt’s forehead, then his nose, his mouth.

“I love you,” he says against Kurt’s lips.

Kurt remembers another moment like this: in a coffee shop, the happy-shock he’d felt in response, then the answering blossom of deep, abiding affection. This is different: quiet, slow, a candle instead of a flame.

“I love you too,” Kurt says, means it. Sebastian leans down and they kiss again.

_“But you’re a king and I’m a lionheart, a lionheart . . . .”_

**end.**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SONGS: You Oughta Know - Alanis Morissette, Walk Over Me - Dirtie Blondie, My Strongest Suit - Aida , Out Tonight - RENT , Howlin’ For You - The Black Keys, Faster - Matt Nathanson, Use Somebody - Karima Francis cover, King and Lionheart - Of Monsters and Men.


End file.
